


my heart burns there too.

by stopthewater



Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Self-Hatred, Septiplier - Freeform, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopthewater/pseuds/stopthewater
Summary: jack presents when he's a teenager. he doesn't tell anyone.now he's a wildly successful youtuber who's only a tiny bit in love with his friend. everything is perfect- as long as nobody finds out he's an omega.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Sean McLoughlin, Markiplier/Jacksepticeye
Comments: 61
Kudos: 212





	1. you drove me all the way up here

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written septiplier before. should i carry on? let me know what you think

_He hears them before he sees them, heat-dazed head unable to focus on anything other than the scratching of the carpet against his skin. "It fucking reeks out here," someone says from the hallway - Malcom, maybe? Jack's not sure and his head is spinning too much to turn around and face the door. "Told you he wasn't a beta."_

_"Fucksake," comes the other voice, and Jack feels something press against his shoulder- a boot, maybe? The contact makes him whine, too harsh and sudden, and the boot drops away. "Leave 'im. Waste'a time." It's only when the door slams behind him that he realises the boot belonged to his dad._

-

Jack wakes up to the sound of running water, which is decidedly _not_ normal in his apartment that is located nowhere near any body of water. It's also unnaturally cold, so he decides to pull his pillow over his head and deal with it later. Unfortunately, Killian wades into his room a few minutes later and says, "Feckin' pipes burst, Jackso. Get up if you want'cha PC to live another day."

This is why Jack spends the morning in his underwear and welly boots, hoping to fuck that Killian knew what he was doing when he turned off the electricity because dying from an electric shock was not on his agenda. The water's only ankle height, so most of his equipment is completely untouched, but his bookcase is looking pretty fucking sad. He'll have to replace all the cables, obviously, but the cost of that is _nothing_ compared to having to replace the equipment it's attached to. "Yer recording stuff make it?" Killian asks from where he's leaning against the doorframe. Earlier he'd claimed their apartment insurance was enough for him to not care about all the water damage. Jack's not sure he believes him, but really it's his loss. 

"Just about. What, uh- the feck are we s'posed to do now? Not like we can just stay here."

Killian pulls a face that suggests what he's about to say next is not good. "Eh. My sister's roommate's on a- erm, a _spiritual_ journey in India. Don't," he grins when Jack laughs. "She's English. But, uh, yeah, I was thinkin' of maybe going over to hers. You could always just buy a lil' boat?"

"Hotel it is then, ey." This is maybe the furthest from ideal that ever could be. Con season is right on him and he had a perfectly planned schedule of super duper high intensity recording planned over the next two weeks before flying out to America to stay with Mark. Only, even if he finds a hotel at this short notice that is 1) not ridiculously expensive, and 2) isn't an absolute shithole, it's not going to be somewhere he can properly record. Killian grabs all the dry stuff he decides he gives a shit about and bids Jack goodbye, and leaving him still stood there in the sad water and his wellies.

"Shit," he says, watching a few of the Xbox games float past him. "The feck 'm I s'posed to do now?"

The pipe guys arrive half an hour later when he's filming a vlog explaining the situation, which is _very_ awkward considering he is still in his underwear. They probably pegged him for some kind of cam star, but he'll just have to live with it. Jack doesn't have any dry clothes other than some basketball shorts from a Halloween costume Killian tried to make him wear last year, but they'll have to do as he carts a basket full of soggy outfits down to the building's dryer. He uploads the vlog while he's waiting for them to dry without watching it back- it's eight in the fucking morning on a _Saturday_ and he can't bring himself to care that much. Hopefully he hasn't accidentally exposed his ass or something like that. 

Mark calls him a couple minutes after the vlog drops, but he doesn't realise until he's on the other side of the room to his phone with the heaviest basket of wet clothes in the world so he decides to call him later. Only, Mark calls again and then texts saying _call me, dingus_ , so Jack thinks he probably should call in case Mark's been in some kind of deadly accident. Jack presses the dial button and sticks it between his chin and his shoulder, attempting to push as many wet items of clothing into the dryer as possible. "Alrighty, Mark?" he says, trying to sound the least stressed that he possibly can. 

"Dude, is your apartment actually flooded?"

"Uh, yep. Feckin' pipes burst overnight." He feels kind of rude saying this, but really he wants to get everything out as quickly as possible. "Uh, you just call for a chat? Not that I don't love ta chat, but I kind of got a lot on my plate this second."

"No, asshole, obviously not. I was gonna ask where you were planning on staying."

"Meh," Jack shrugs, shouldering the door of the dryer shut with reasonable difficulty. "Killian's pissed of to his sister's. Gonna find a hotel, hopefully. Recording's gonna be an absolute nightmare," he laughs. It's not funny, but if he stops laughing he's going to start worrying. 

"You could always just come here a couple weeks earlier- I know you'd have to pay to push your flights forward, but I'm sure it'd cost less than- y'know, having to stay in a hotel for two weeks and then flying out."

"Oh- woah, dude, I can't make you do that. I'm sure I'll find somewhere-"

"Stop being a dick and come! I can pick you up from the airport _today,_ it's hardly like there's no space for you- dude, d'you want me to rebook your flight now? We-"

"Slow down, fuckin' eager beaver," he chuckles. "You're really sure I can stay? I'll have ta bring all my recording shite, dunno how I'm really gonna do that, but-"

"Sort out whatever you need, rebook your flight and just let me know," Mark interrupts, and he sounds warm and friendly and Jack's stomach does that stupid thing it wouldn't stop doing last time he stayed in LA. 

There's a pause, but it's nice. Jack loves meeting new people, but he's never been entirely the best at it - he's too loud, speaks too fast to fill the silence - and he always ends up feeling like they'll think he's trying too hard. With Mark, even back when Jack was still just a _fan_ who had a stupid crush on his YouTube idol, it was never like that. Talking to him was never difficult or awkward or anything like that. "If ya really don't care, that would be great. Uh- I can call you when I'm leavin' for the airport?"

"Awesome, dude," Mark says, hanging up before Jack can say bye. 

This is not where Jack thought his Saturday would go. It could definitely be worse.

-

Mark meets him at the gate. Jack didn't even think that was allowed in today's airports, but that doesn't mean he's not standing there with a beanie on like it's not the middle of summer in California. When he sees Jack, he grins widely, and Jack firmly tells his stomach to _get over itself_. Nothing can possibly go wrong. He's taking suppressants _and_ blockers at twice the recommended rate and he _never_ forgets. This isn't going to be any different to any other time.

"Hey, dude!" he says, pulling Jack into a solid hug. Mark smells like sandalwood and mint and _him_. "Good to see you," he says, mouth right next to Jack's ear, and maybe this isn't going to be as easy as he had thought it was. If Jack pulls away a tiny bit too quickly, Mark doesn't say anything.

"You too, man! Sorry to make you get up so feckin' early."

"Nah, it's not that bad. How long you been awake for?"

Jack shrugs, starts walking and Mark follows without asking where they're going. "Probably around nineteen hours? Twenty at a push?" Mark pulls a face and he laughs, shrugging again. "Hate sleeping on planes. Too loud." They walk to baggage claim mostly in silence, Jack complaining about the pipes and Mark complaining about the racoon that got into his crawlspace but mostly just being comfortable. Jack hates planes enough that this is relieving to him, even though he's pretty much falling asleep standing up. Maybe it's a good thing Mark met him at the gate- he spots Jack's luggage well before he does and Jack doesn't even realise until he's lifting it off the wheel for him. 

"You can sleep in the car, dude- you hungry?"

"Feckin' starving, man. Plane food made me chunder."

"Gross," Mark says, but he's laughing. As soon as they get to the car, Jack balls up his hoodie as a makeshift pillow and leans back against it. "Night night, Jackaboy."

"Am not sleeping. Just resting my eyes," he yawns, closing his eyes. That's completely his plan, so he's a little surprised when Mark shakes him awake and the sun is in a very different position in the sky. Also, they're sat in Mark's driveway. "Oh, what?" he frowns, rubbing his face with his hoodie. "Shit, man. Some company, hey."

"Nah, you were fucking tired. Would've been shit company anyway," he says, swatting at Jack when he elbows him. "We can order takeaway when we've got all your shit inside?"

"I can cook if you-" he tries, stopping to yawn. "If you've got like, cooking shit."

"When have I _ever_ had food in my house? You know I'm possibly the worst cook in California. Also, you're so tired that I wouldn't put it past you to accidentally put your hand in the frying pan or some shit like that."

"Piss off," he says, but he's kind of smiling like an idiot. There was only so much recording stuff he could logistically bring - Killian's looking after the rest of it at his sister's because Jack's hardly going to leave a thousand quid computer in an empty house. "What we eating?"

An hour later, they're sat watching South Park on Mark's sofa. Chica's head is resting on his thigh and he's shovelling Chinese food into his mouth like his life depends on it. They haven't _hung_ out in such a long time, not like this- Jack stayed last year for PAX, but he came a couple days before and left straight after - between video recording and cons, they hardly had much time just to sit. "This is the shit," Jack says around a mouthful of bok choi, sneaking tiny pieces of chicken to Chica whenever Mark seems like he's not looking. "Chinese food is shite in Brighton."

"Uhuh," Mark says, mouth full of chilli beef. Jack's glad they're both as gross as each other. "Love this place. I can't believe how shit it was when I came to the UK."

"Yeah," Jack says, necking half of his beer. It's kind of weird that Mark has so much beer in his house for someone that only drinks on special occasions and never beer. "'s been a while since we've hung out, huh."

Jack's not really sure why he says it. It's hardly a lie, that they kind of drifted apart since they saw each other last year. It wasn't anyone's fault, necessarily- YouTube is moving away from collaborative work and they just didn't find a reason to talk for a little bit. Jack minded, obviously, but there was just so much going on last year that there wasn't _time_ to sit and think about it. By the time he finally got his shit together and called Mark, it kind of felt like the damage had already been done.

"Yeah," Mark says, a little quieter than before but not necessarily sad. "Glad you're here now. It's gonna be fun." Maybe the damage isn't irreversible. It won't be the same as it was when they first met, but that was never going to be the case. They're both different people now. 

"Yeah," Jack agrees, bumping his shoulder against Mark's. He's exhausted, so the second he puts his takeaway on the coffee table his body is slumping back down into the sofa. "Feck me, I'm tired."

"Go to bed, dude. And stop feeding Chica, I've been watching you do it this whole time."

"Meh," Jack yawns, tucking his arm around Chica's head to scratch her ear. "In a sec."

"Eh?" he yawns, stretching until he realises Chica is still lying next to him. "You just left me conked out on your sofa for six hours?" 

"Dude, I tried to wake you up. I went to the grocery store for both of us, but _you_ wouldn't wake up. Hope you like the shit I bought."

"Pasta?" 

"Yeah."

"Good enough," he decides, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. "A'right, I'm off ta bed." 

"Night, dude," Mark says, dropping down into the sofa where he'd been sat. Jack turns to look as he leaves and Mark's head is thrown back against the sofa as he looks at his phone. Maybe he lingers on Mark's neck a little bit too long.

Jack's always known that Mark was an alpha. Even back in the early days on YouTube when nobody cared about their own privacy, Mark was never _super_ open about being an alpha- but then again, he's hardly a typical alpha. Take Felix, for example: Jack loves him to pieces, always will, but he can hardly deny that he's a bit of a knothead. Him and Ken are always joke-fighting, shouting over whatever to be the dominant alpha of the video. Jack fights tooth over tongue to have a voice in those videos (that alone is part of the reason nobody's ever pegged him for an omega despite how small and soft in the face he is.) Sometimes there's comments of people accusing Jack of _trying to keep up with the alphas_ , and whilst they piss him off because Felix and Ken and even Bob or Mark aren't better than him just because of their secondary genders, he doesn't say anything because they're not accusing him of being an omega and that's good enough. 

When Ethan and Mark became friends, Jack wasn't sure what to make of him. Before him, there weren't really any omega gaming channels that people would take seriously - sure, Mark and the others endorsing him helps, but he's got his own standing now. _Obviously,_ he was kind of jealous of Mark spending pretty much every day with someone who was the walking stereotype of an omega, but then Ethan actually came out about being an omega and things changed.

Felix and Ken stopped making sexist jokes in videos, and Jack stopped living in fear of when they were all ridiculously drunk that he'd accidentally out himself by defending omegas. Now it makes more sense for him to stand up for omegas, both online and with anyone he meets. Part of him has this like, super painful underlying guilt that he didn't ever stand up to it before, but overcoming that would involve reaching internal peace with _being_ an omega. That's not happening anytime soon. 


	2. because you could tell that i was a mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the con is pretty much a blur after that, because Jack can't go anywhere without feeling like people are staring at him thinking the same thing.

The first few days of Jack's stay are relatively uneventful- once he gets over his jetlag (mostly,) they spend most of the time in the studio recording videos for the time they're going to be busy at PAX. In the end, they only end up filming one collab, but it's pretty solid content and Jack's pretty excited to upload it. Other than the occasional group videos, he hasn't filmed with Mark in over a year, and it's nice. 

They travel up to PAX together (obviously, Jack doesn't have a car) along with Ethan and Tyler, Ethan making them play stupid games for the whole trip that they all pretend to find annoying. Jack likes living in Brighton, likes living with Killian, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss these people.

"Busy day?" Mark asks as he's repacking his back-pack, the other two waiting outside the car.

"Nah, not much. PAX weren't that bothered about me t'is year. Guessin' your schedule's pretty packed?"

"Back to back panels, baby," he sighs, fixing his hair in the wing mirror. "You're on some of them, right?" Jack nods, watching Mark tuck his glasses away under his seat (how he leaves them there and doesn't accidentally crush them Jack has no idea. "What're you gonna do while you're not on panels?"

"Eh, dunno," he says, even though he knows exactly what he's going to do. "Maybe walk around, see if anyone wants ta chat." And he means that, because he loves meeting fans, but that's only going to take so long. The rest of the time he'll watch Mark's panels from backstage, standing far back enough that nobody on stage will be able to see him. It's kind of embarrassing.

At least, he's feeling embarrassed by it until Mark says, "Just come visit my panels, I'll make sure there's a chair."

"Mark, I don't think PAX are gonna want me to crash panels they didn't invite me to."

Mark shrugs as if he doesn't see this as an issue, flipping the mirror back up and turning to face him. "I don't give a fuck. They're hardly gonna tell you to leave."

Jack doesn't know how to argue with this. It turns out that he can't; after his first panel is over and he's done all the walking around his legs can handle, he's leaning against the wall backstage and watching the panel when Mark waves him over. At first he just rolls his eyes, because there's no way Mark will actually want him to come out just before people start asking questions. But then Mark says, "One second, folks," into his microphone and lets Ken start talking about how long he's going to let his beard get. It takes Jack an embarrassing amount of time to realise he's coming over to him, beckoning him out as soon as he's within earshot. "Dude, do you want to come or not?" It doesn't sound impatient, even though he should be in a hurry to get back. It's more like he's checking that Jack actually wants to come.

"Mark, it's your fecking panel," he argues, but then Mark's hand is firmly around his wrist and he's walking back towards the stage. Enough people clap when he comes out that he feels he's at least semi wanted on a panel that really hasn't got much to do with him. Honestly, he's only been listening when Mark or Wade were talking, so he's not entirely sure what it's about.

"Everybody say hello to Mr Septiceye here," Mark says, waving Jack's hand in the air for him before leading him to the empty chair next to him. Of course there's a chair. Jack shouldn't have expected anything less. "I'm not sure how we're doing for time," he says, eyeing Felix for an answer (who just shrugs and makes a _time to get a watch_ gesture,) "But I'm sure we'll have enough to do a few questions for Jack, if anyone has any."

Really, Jack's content just to sit and listen as Mark bickers with Ken, friendly and over-the-top. Maybe there's an edge to it, because Mark had been dubbed the 'leader' of the group by the stage guy who introduced them and Ken was _not_ happy with that, but it's nothing anyone in the audience would ever pick up on. But then Mark's holding the microphone under his mouth, turning enough that their knees bump under the table and picking out someone from the audience. 

_Why's your hair green_?

"Uh, it was for charity- Mark's hair _used_ to be red, but he's more of a pussy than I am so he dyed it back. I liked green, thought I'd try it again." Mark elbows him.

_Is prophunt coming back soon?_

"Ooh- hard no there, sorry fellas. Got much more exciting new things headed your way."

_Are you really a beta? You never talk about it and you look-_

"Alright," Mark says, clearing his throat loudly into the microphone. "We like to stay away from invasive questions on this panel, so does anyone _else_ have any questions? Questions for Felix, maybe?"

That sets them off on a whole spiel of things that Jack is really not listening to at all - all of his energy is focused into the blood pounding through his ears and trying to look as unaffected as possible. Mark doesn't look at him, stays facing Felix and looking the right amount of interested, but he bumps his knee against Jack's after a minute or so has passed. When Jack bumps it back, he nods.

The rest of the con is pretty much a blur after that, because Jack can't go anywhere without feeling like people are staring at him thinking the same thing. Mark doesn't bring it up, and neither does anyone else - he keeps catching Ethan staring at him, but he might just be zoning out in Jack's direction - so he's left wondering why Mark did it. Sure, it could be that he's a good friend who understands that nobody likes those kinds of questions (other than people who brag about it, and that's decidedly not Jack,) or it could be that he knows that guy was onto something and he didn't want Jack to be exposed at PAX of all places. Honestly, it's eating him alive- the whole drive home he can't hear anything anybody is saying to him because his head won't shut the fuck up. What if Mark knows? What if he's just waiting for Ethan and Tyler to leave so he can confront him? Is he going to kick him out?

"Seán," Ethan says from behind him, tapping the back of his neck through the headrest. "Dude, I've said bye like twice now."

"Oh- fuck, what? Where are we?"

"At my house," Ethan says. Ethan has this way of speaking where, if anyone else used the same words, they would probably come across as annoying or condescending, but he always just sounds _nice._ He's too warm and smiley to be anything else. "Bye-bye, weirdo." Jack just waves, does the same to Tyler outside the window and waits for the slam of the car door.

"You alright, Jackaboy?" Mark asks after a few minutes of quiet. Is this the segue into asking Jack if he's an omega? Can Jack say no?

"Uh, yep!" he says, too brightly for it to be anything close to real. Mark looks like he won't push it, but then Jack feels bad for lying completely. "Feel a tad like I might puke, but other than that." It's not untrue- ever since he left the UK he hasn't been feeling quite right. There's a soft throb at the base of his skull that won't go away and he feels nauseous every time he stands up too quickly. It's a well known side effect of taking heat suppressants for too long, but normally Jack does a superb job of _ignoring_ said side effects and they go away after a week or so. 

"Oh, dude, you should've said! I've got some Tums at home, I'll find them as soon as we get in."

"Thanks, Mark," Jack says, because asking _what the fuck is a tum_ sounds kind of rude in his head. The atmosphere in the car is easy, and if Jack would just get over himself he could leave the whole beta-omega thing behind, but he can't so he clears his throat and says, "You enjoy your panels?"

Mark grins, not taking his eyes off the road because he's a better driver than Jack will ever be (and that's saying something. Mark has only learned this from his long history of crashing things.) "Yeah, I thought this year was awesome. A ton more people came than last year- the one with you and Felix was definitely the best one."

"You think?"

"'Course, dude. Crowd favourite by far. Though," he frowns, wrinlking his nose, "That guy was so fucking rude."

Jacks heart drops into his stomach like a fucking anvil. "Ey? Which guy?"

"Y'know, that guy asking about _are you a beta blah blah blah._ It's like when last year, someone kicked off at Felix 'cause he wouldn't talk about Cry's address. No concept of privacy, right?"

"Right," Jack echoes back, not sure of what else to say. Maybe Mark really has no idea.

The thing is, that if you look, it's really not hard to work out that Jack's an omega. He's had no relationships, _ever_ , which is pretty uncommon for a beta of his age (he's had hook-ups before, obviously, but not with anyone who's close to knowing who he is.) He takes pills like clockwork, twice a day every day for 'allergies.' The bottles are unlabelled, because he's not stupid, but they show heat blockers in health class in high school, so it's not like nobody would know if they thought to look inside the bottle. The guy in the crowd was right, really; _looking_ at Jack, he does look like an omega. Sure, people forget on YouTube because it's all about how loud or violent he's being, but in person he's fucking tiny, big eyes and all that stuff that his brother took the piss of for being too _feminine_. Everyone around him is just stupid, it seems.

It's probably better like that.

-

Something shifts in their dynamic after PAX. Jack thinks it might be something to do with Mark's expectation that he's staying for the next _two months_ until the next con. Obviously, he does the whole _when do you want me to get going_ thing, because his mother did not raise a rude house guest, but Mark had just stared at him like he was being an idiot. "Exactly where are you planning on staying, Jackaboy?" he'd asked, one eye still on whatever shitty horror game he was playing. This stumped him. But before he could pull some lie out of his ass about staying with one of his sisters even though they all live in Ireland, Mark had turned back to him as if the conversation was already over. "Exactly, dude. Just stay here." 

It's not just that, though. Jack's body seems to have developed some kind of hyper-awareness of- well, of _Mark_. Obviously Jack could smell him before; living in his house, sitting on the sofa together with their knees together, he can always smell sandalwood and mint and underneath that, the deeper smell of an _alpha._ Every time he touches Jack, the feeling tingles under his skin for hours and he finds himself wanting more. His omega wants to get _closer_ , to curl up next to him or in his arms and bare his throat to him.

Jack's hardly about to give in to his omegan instincts, though, so he keeps his throat guarded even when they're half asleep on the sofa and ignores it whenever Marks fingers brush against his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked it please let me know!!


	3. i wasn't gonna make it to dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bottle of Ethan's shite wine later (see: Jack should have shared it with someone else because it might have meant the room would be spinning less) he's probably sufficiently drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this doesn't fit in with any specific time period, it's really a mix. sorry if it's not accurate!

It seems like a great idea when Ethan and Tyler show up the next day with a twelve pack of beer and say, _lets go out for drinks_. Mark doesn't drink, so it's interesting that they showed up to Mark's and not anywhere else, but he seems into it. Mark not drinking was never really an issue because he's loud and exciting enough to keep up with everyone else when they're drunk. Jack, for one, is planning on getting absolutely fucking smashed. 

Felix, Wade, Bob and Ken are still around LA for whatever reason, so Mark drives them to some crowded annoying American bar and they all crowd around a sticky table. Killian smokes a shit ton of weed and hates drinking, so Jack hasn't been _out_ out in a solid amount of time. It's nice. 

They're in the middle of discussing whether the next _Outlast_ game is going to be any good (trick question: it looks amazing) when some guy shoulders past Mark, knocking into his chair hard enough that Mark's elbow connects with Wade's beer. "This isn't the kind of wet I was looking for this evening," Wade pouts, but from the slur in his words it's obvious he's too drunk to _really_ care about the beer spilt down his shirt. Mark stares at the direction the guy went in with a stony face until Wade starts to pet his head. "Leave it, Marky-moo. Don't care that much."

"If you say so," he shrugs, but Jack can see him completely not leaving it. He's still staring after the guy that barged past, only half-participating in conversations that he'd originally started.

"I'm- uh, another drink," Jack decides, slapping Ethan on the arm where he's cradling his head next to him. "C'mon, E'tan. You need a drink to wake y'up."

"Too-ooo drunk," he whines into the crook of his elbow, but when Jack starts poking his side he sits up. "You're paying," he says, pointing at Jack (or, at least, trying his hardest to hold his hand straight to point at Jack. Really, he's pointing at Ken's shoulder.) 

"I might come and get some water," Mark says, even though there's a full glass of coke in front of him. Jack just stands up, waits for the dizziness to pass and then they're off, weaving through people to make it to the bar. Ethan lazily throws an arm around his shoulders for support, and Jack pushes away the mantra of _he knows, that's why he's this comfortable with you, he knows,_ and tries to focus on what drink they should both get. "You guys want me to order for you?"

"Nah," Jack says out of reflex, even though he can't really read the chalk board from where he's standing. "What you getting?"

"Something _fruity_ ," he says, winking very badly. "No- I don't give a shit, order me something." Mark just steps forward to order them all something, and Jack is lost in the noise and Ethan talking a bit too loudly in his ear about his dog. This means that he doesn't see the guy from earlier until his hand is on Ethan's waist, head far too close.

"This beta cuck's got nothing on me, darlin'," he says, reeking of whiskey and alpha and an alarm is going off in Jack's head saying _danger_. They're quite close to the door, though, so when Ethan shoves him away he looks like he'll just turn and go outside.

"Feckin' knothead," Jack says, turning to see whether Mark has noticed. The man in question is leaning over the bar, pointing at something above the bartender's head and sounding like he's making friendly conversation. Really, he thinks that Mark could make friends with anyone he wanted to just by trying. "Ey, Mark," he tries, because he does _not_ want a pisstake expensive drink and that kind of seems like what Mark's picked. Weaving out from under Ethan's arm, he squeezes past two ladies to tap Mark on the back. "Don't make me a broke man."

"I would never do such a thing," he promises, holding a hand over his heart. "Did Ethan go back to the table?" 

Shit.

There's no way Ethan went back to the table- his back has only been turned for a couple of seconds, and they'd still be able to see him if that was the case. "Motherfucker," Jack curses, stumbling over someone's foot to get to the door as fast as he can.

Sure enough, Ethan's backing away from the man on the pavement outside. It's busy enough that he can't do anything drastic, but the people smoking outside all seem to drunk to realise what's going on and the man won't stop trying to bury his face in Ethan's neck. Jack can smell his pheromones from several feet away, can see the darkness of his eyes and the sharpness of his teeth before he barrells into the man with his shoulder. Unfortunately, the man is maybe six foot three of pure muscle and Jack's a scrawny five-eight at _best_ , so he only stumbles slightly before pushing Jack into the wall. Apparently, this is serious, so Jack shakes off the sharp pain in his back and gets ready to clock the guy round the face when Mark appears in front of him and punches the guy in the nose.

"Holy shit," Ethan says, bending over to catch his breath. The guy bares his teeth and growls, low and threatening in his chest. Fucking hell, Jack's far too drunk for this.

"Back off," he hisses, wiping the blood from his face. "You try'na fight? You want a real fight? An _alpha_ fight?" The guy is clearly drunk out of his mind, but he's big enough that that doesn't mean he isn't a serious threat. 

"I don't wanna _fight,_ I want you to fuck off and leave us alone," Mark responds, voice dangerously low. The guy just steps back to regain himself, baring his teeth again.

"I'm gonna rip your fucking throat out." 

Mark growls, and Jack's legs move for him. Suddenly he's stood in front of Mark, head thrown back to protect Mark's throat at all costs. This seems to confuse the guy, just for a second, and behind him Jack can hear Ethan asking someone to get security. "Oh- fuck, 'sit like that? I thought," he says, pointing at Jack and then Mark. "Move."

" _No_ ," Jack says through gritted teeth, though he's clearly lost some of his momentum and is staggering a little bit more. He's too drunk to actually assess the meaning of the situation, but deep down, he's aware. Mates are the only people who do this- or, more specifically, in fights, omegas protect the most vulnerable part of their alpha. Mark isn't his alpha, and as far as everyone else knows, Jack isn't supposed to be an omega, but here he is. 

"Jon, you fucking dickhead, let's _go_ ," someone else growls, walking up to the guy and shaking him by the shoulders. "Seriously, the fuck is wrong with you?" They're leading him away before he can say anything else, throwing an apologetic look over their shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

"Shit," Jack says, backing away from Mark until they're at a reasonable distance for friends who aren't romantically compatible to be standing. "Uh-"

"We should maybe go," Mark says, hands still clenched into fists by his side. "We can carry on drinking at mine or Ethan's or something." And then he's disappearing inside, leaving Jack to follow him because he does _not_ like how Ethan is looking at him, almost as if he knows something.

The table is collectively too drunk to realise anything is really wrong, so when Mark says to get a taxi to his house because there's not enough room in the car, everyone clambers out of the booth without question. 

Driving home is on the edge of uncomfortable - Ethan's loudly complaining to Tyler and Bob about what happened, and Mark seems to still be cooling down - so Jack vows to get as completely drunk as possible when they get there. This whole Mark thing is decidedly an issue, and as long as he's heavily intoxicated he can decide it _isn't_ an issue. Maybe Mark doesn't get out of the car straight away, like he's planning on saying something to Jack, but he doesn't stick around to find out.

A bottle of Ethan's shite wine later (see: Jack should have shared it with someone else because it might have meant the room would be spinning less) he's probably sufficiently drunk. Mark's perked back up again - _not_ that he was paying attention to that kind of thing - and is attempting to play Jenga with Felix. It's not working, because every few minutes somebody knocks it over. Often, it's on purpose.

Jack's a happy kind of royally wasted, head sunk back in the couch cushions and leg resting on Felix's knee. "Fe," he says, wiggling his leg. "Fe, Fe, Fe."

"What'you want?" he giggles, nearly knocking over the tower for the sixth time. 

"Water."

"Get it yourself, _fitta_." Jack doesn't move other than to try and disrupt the tower, because even though he doesn't remember what that means in Swedish he _knows_ it's bad.

"Seán," Ethan says, poking his head into his shoulder. "Come w'me, water time." Jack vaults up over the back of the sofa, landing on his ass on the other side. "You can do gymnastics like me!" he cheers, pulling Jack upright. Somewhere along the way, Ethan must have stopped drinking, because he's fucking smashed but still reasonably coherent. Jack is barely able to stand up. "Hey, I can't get Chica to come in from outside- she likes you, come get her." Seeing Chica seems like the best possible thing he could do, so he happily lets Ethan lead him out to the garden by his hand. True to his word, Chica's lying on her belly next to the pool, wagging her tail as he stumbles towards her. 

"Hello sweetheart," he grins, burying his face into her neck. "Aw, who's the best girl ever? Who's the best girl _ever_?"

Jack's maybe a little too caught up on this to be aware of what's going on behind him. Somewhere, he distantly hears the back door click shut and the loud chatter of everyone else becomes muted, but Ethan's sat next to him before he realises. "Hey, uh- Seán," he says.

"Woah- serious voice, E-boy. Is it serious conversation time? Do we need to whisper?"

"No, idiot, the door's shut. I just- I know, I know we're both super drunk but I have to say it 'cause you have to know, alright? But- but don't be scared, there's nothing wrong, I won't-"

"Spit it out," he interrupts. He's past the point of _anything_ being able to sober him up, but the sincere look on Ethan's face is definitely panicking him a little bit.

"I think- no, no- I'm _sure_ you're an omega." 

Jack's hands move faster than his mind, and by the time he's caught up with what Ethan actually just said to him, he's already clamped his hands over the other man's mouth. "Don't," he pleads. He doesn't know how to deal with this. Even sober, he doesn't know how to deal with this. Ethan pulls his hands away and keeps a tight hold on them. Interestingly, he doesn't look annoyed, not like someone who's about to start accusing Jack of being a liar or hiding things from everyone.

"It's okay- _Jack_ , I swear. I won't tell anyone, I just had to- to ask."

"It's- I'm not-" he tries, but his voice falters with the way Ethan is looking at him.

"It's okay," he repeats. "It's not obvious, don't worry. Everyone else is too- too stupid to realise. I just- the way you look at Mark-"

"Woah- _what_?" he asks, because- well. Being accused of being an omega is his worst fear, because it's true, and if anyone comes to him with enough evidence he can hardly deny it. But he wasn't expecting _this_. "Really?"

Ethan laughs, leans forward so their heads are pressed together. "You look at him like- like, I dunno. Like he hung the stars in the sky. But- I don't wanna talk about that. That's not why we're talking. I just wanted to say- if you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me. If you wake up tomorrow and- and you wanna pretend we never talked about this, that's okay! It's okay. But if you want someone- you can trust me, I promise." 

"I believe you," Jack says, watching the pool lights reflect in his eyes. It's not an admission, it's not him agreeing with anything Ethan's just said to him. But it's enough for Ethan, for now, anyway. He leans forward and presses a messy kiss to Jack's forehead before standing up and nearly falling in the pool. "C'mon, Chicsa," he says, following Ethan inside. His head is racing at a million miles per hour, but Mark looks up from the semi-collapsed Jenga pile and smiles. 

He'll deal with it tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you want more?


	4. i shouldn't be calling again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You'd better not poison us," Ethan frowns, poking at the fried egg with his fork. "Last time you cooked food it was- um, it was not very nice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is very short (sorry) but i've got the next two written already and one of them is CHUNKY so look forward to that very soon! thank you for all the nice comments

"Wakey-wakey, eggs and bakey!" Mark says, standing over him with spatula. He's fully dressed and showered, and Jack thinks he might vomit into his pillowcase. "Bob will eat it all if you don't get up, Jackaboy." Jack groans, pulling the duvet up over his face. "I'll try and save you some, but it's your loss." There's the sound of him putting something down on the night stand and maybe quietly laughing at Jack before closing the bedroom door behind him. Now that the room is dark again, Jack resurfaces from the covers, staring at the glass of water Mark has left him. That's... interesting. Whatever. Jack drinks the whole thing and lies back down for five more minutes until the smell of food frying becomes too much for him to ignore.

Outside, Felix is still passed out on the couch and Ken in the armchair, a questionable stain down the front of his t-shirt. Mark's standing in the kitchen frying what smells like bacon, with Ethan and Bob sat waiting for food behind him. Bob is wearing sunglasses, and when Jack turns to look at Ethan he suddenly remembers everything they spoke about last night and nearly turns around. "Morning, dickhead," Bob says, and then it's too late because Ethan and Mark have already seen him. "Interesting choice of outfit."

"Piss off," he yawns, scratching his bare stomach. Apparently, drunk Jack had fallen asleep in swimming trunks as sleep pants, and hungover Jack could hardly be assed to get changed this early in the morning. "I was promised food," he says, doing his best not to make eye contact with Ethan. Maybe it's too late. Maybe he told everyone as soon as he woke up. At the very least, he's probably told Mark. Shit. 

"And I shall deliver on this promise," Mark says, turning around with the frying pan. "Sit your ass down, it's time for breakfast!"

"You'd better not poison us," Ethan frowns, poking at the fried egg with his fork. "Last time you cooked food it was- um, it was not very nice." Jack stares at his plate in favour of not looking at Ethan. The four of them eat in silence, all too busy shovelling food in their mouths to speak to each other. 

"Well?" Mark says, waiting eagerly for someone to tell him whether the food is any good. "Oh, yeah- there's coffee, if anyone wants." The food is quite good, but Jack ignores any opportunity of complimenting it in favour of immediately standing up to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

"It's alright," Ethan says, grinning when Mark elbows him. "Needs more... um, maybe flavour?"

"Salt is your friend, Mark," Jack says, spooning sugar into his mug. " _Ugh_ , Jesus, Mary and Joseph, my _head._ Who fucking let me drink a whole bottle of absolutely shite wine?"

"Honestly, I don't know how you're still standing," Bob sighs, resorting to eating the bacon with his hands. "The only person who was close to being as drunk as you was _Wade_ , and he's like, a unit. And also, he might be dead, we haven't checked. You're tiny, and you didn't even throw up."

"I'm not tiny," he scowls, sipping at his coffee. "I'm also just not weak like all of you Americans."

"To be fair, you used to be much tinier," Bob nods, possibly still a little drunk. "You been working out or something?" 

Jack flexes his bicep, hopes that Mark is looking because he's interested and not just to be friendly. "Killian's on some bullshit health kick, so I figured we'd make it into a competition." Mark snorts, as if to say _Killian being healthy?_ and Jack rolls his eyes in response. "'Course the guy's given up. I just haven't." 

The rest of the morning is pretty chaotic, but in a much more muted and hungover way than yesterday night. It takes two hours for everyone else to wake up, and even then Felix is probably dangerously hungover as they load him into a taxi towards the airport. There's some kind of knowing expression on his face when Jack tells him he's cancelled the flight they were supposed to take together, and when he hugs him goodbye it's a little bit longer than normal. Pretty successfully, Jack manages to avoid Ethan (and, to some extent Mark) all morning, deciding he can conveniently be in the shower around the time Ethan is leaving and then he won't have to talk to him. This is a _great_ idea until Jack's in his room with a towel around his waist and Ethan knocks on the door.

"Jack?" he says, tapping his fingers against the handle again when Jack doesn't respond. "I'm gonna come in unless you tell me not to." Shit. Well, realistically, he has to deal with this at _some_ point. In may as well be now, when there's nobody else around. So Jack stays silent, stares at the floor as Ethan lets himself in and gently shuts the door behind him. "I just- um, I thought I would say bye. I'm going now."

This catches Jack off-guard, slightly. Is Ethan not going to make him talk about this? Has he not already told Mark and possibly everybody else? 

But then Ethan says, "Um, also. About last night," and Jack has clearly spoken too soon. "No- I just wanted to say, like- everything I said last night is still true. I haven't told anybody- and, and I'm _not_ going to. I promise. I just wanted to say you can- ha, I don't really know. Just-" he pauses, and suddenly he's pulling Jack into a tight hug. It's comforting in the way that Jack was always afraid of, because omegas are supposed to be able to form the closest bonds with each other. Ethan smells like fresh cotton and birthday cake mix, and when Jack buries his face in his neck without meaning to he just giggles. "If you ever need anything, call me- okay?"

"Okay," Jack says, and for some reason he thinks he's close to tears. This is the calmest he's felt in weeks. When Ethan pulls away, he laughs again, taps Jack on the cheek. "Thanks," he says, voice embarrassingly tight.

"No worries. See you round, Seán." And then, because it's Ethan, he presses a kiss to Jack's cheek before leaving his bedroom. Jack thinks he might love him, just a little bit - it's nothing romantic, and it's probably his stupid omega hormones talking, but still. It takes a few minutes to get himself together and get dressed. 

The rest of the day passes with relative ease. Jack doesn't go back to bed because he's not a weakling, but he _might_ fall asleep on the sofa with Chica for an hour or two. Thankfully, there's enough recordings in the tank that he can _probably_ get away with not doing anything today - ideally he would, and it would make his life a lot easier if he _did -_ which is great because he's _far_ too hungover to speak remotely loudly. Mark spends the whole day recording a few different things, but it's upstairs rather than in the studio so Jack can hear him shouting occasionally. 

He figures that if he's going to be a shitey house-guest, he may as well cook dinner, because his stomach is not going to cope with a month of takeaway. Mark is a wonderful host and a great friend, but at best he's a mediocre cook. Jack is king of the kitchen so he sticks on Mark's kitchen radio (how old is he, forty?) and starts rummaging through the fridge and cupboards. "What should we make, hey?" he asks Chica, who's slumped onto the floor at the side of the kitchen. "Stir fry? Does your daddy like stir fry?" She starts wagging her tail, probably just because she's a good girl, but he chooses to take that as a yes. 

Cooking is fun- _not_ because he's an omega, but because it's rewarding. It's about putting precision and effort and time into something that can quite easily go wrong, and the fun of it going _right_. Maybe Jack's just overthinking it. Most _normal_ people have dropped those stereotypes; the whole 'omegas are only good for breeding and housekeeping' thing is still around, but as a whole it's now seen as an old-fashioned idea rather than the truth. 

It's only once it's ready that he realises Mark might actually not be ready to eat right now. Sure, it's been quiet upstairs for a while now, but that doesn't mean he isn't still recording. There's only one way to find out. Jack turns the heat off but sticks a lid over the pan to keep it warm before making his way over to the stairs. 

There's no response when Jack knocks on the door, so after a moment of listening he lets himself in. Mark _looks_ like he's recording - there's a game up on the screen, though it looks like his character is just staring into a wall - but he's not speaking or even touching his keyboard, just staring. "Mark," Jack says, and he jumps, pulling off his headphones. "Um. I made dinner, but if you're still recording-"

"No," he says, voice off-kilter and wrong. The light on the camera is still on, but Mark is already walking away from the computer. Jack lets him pass and he towards the stairs without a word. Maybe he's forgotten? Why or how that would happen, he's not sure, but he knows the camera will probably die if he doesn't stop it, so he goes and pauses the recording and switches off everything he knows how to. "Someone linked me a game," he says, suddenly in the doorway again. "Some indie thing, people were talking about it in the comments- the most disturbing horror game _ever,_ apparently."

"Was it that bad?" Jack frowns, because Mark isn't looking at him and Mark is normally a huge fan of eye contact. 

"Dude it was- _fuck_ ," he chuckles, though there's no humour in it. He buries his head in his hands and sighs. "It wasn't really a game. It was just- it started as a game, but then it was just red rooms- like, _real_ stuff. That wasn't fake. There was this- this girl-" he tries, pausing to take a deep breath.

"You don't have to talk about it. We can just go eat and watch somethin' to take your mind off it?" he suggests, and something twists in his stomach when Mark smiles gratefully. _You're just being a good friend,_ he firmly reminds himself. _This isn't anything else_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you liked it!


	5. you drove me all the way back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's half asleep when he realises he's been baring his neck subconsciously, but he's too comfortable to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for drug use i guess? its just weed

The rest of the night they spend on the couch together, watching some travel-cooking show that Mark apologises for putting on ( _"I know it's shit, it's just- relaxing? Fuck off- don't laugh, dickhead.")_ Jack does laugh, but he does understand - he's been watching _Fair City_ since he was wee, and he always ends up going back to it whenever he's feeling overwhelmed. Honestly, he's not sure he'd trust anyone who doesn't have a very bad TV show or movie they repeatedly watch to feel like life isn't awful. Really, they're sat too close for Jack to relax - every time he touches Mark his skin tingles, body desperate for more contact - but Mark looks so small and disturbed with his knees against his chest that Jack can't pull away. It's only when Mark's head slumps onto his shoulder and his whole face starts burning that he finally pulls away.

Just for a second, he closes his eyes as well and pretends that lying like this is normal, that he and Mark are mates and everything is perfect. 

Then Mark shifts, and the moment is broken. Jack pulls away.

"C'mon, Marky-boy. Time for bed." Mark sits back up straight, rubbing his eyes with loose fists. "You gonna be alright?" he asks. He's half kidding, because Mark's calmed down substantially since earlier, but it's also just to make sure.

"Yeah, of course," Mark says, though he does not sound sure at _all._

"If, uh- I dunno," Jack shrugs, and it sounds dumb because Mark is a grown man in his own grown man house, but the look Mark gives him is enough for him to keep talking. "If you can't sleep or whatever, just like. Knock, or something- I dunno, you don't _have_ to-"

Suddenly, Marks arm is thrown over his shoulder, squeezing it as he smiles across at him. It's almost more intimate than a hug. Jack doesn't know how to cope with the way he's smiling at him. "Thanks, man. Goodnight." There's another squeeze and then he's gone, leaving Jack in the living room with Chica and what feels like vines growing in his chest. Maybe he likes Mark more than he thought. 

He stays up for another hour watching Arrested Development to avoid coping with this.

-

" _Seán,_ " Jack hears, pulling him out of the depths of the mountains he'd been climbing and back into the spare bedroom. This bed is _comfortable,_ much more comfortable than any bed he's ever owned, so sleep clings to him in heavy tendrils. He almost thinks he's imagined it before, " _Seán._ "

"Mmh?" he says, rolling over to face away from the wall. After a second, his eyes adjust to the dark and he sees Mark standing in the doorway clutching what looks like a blanket. "Mark?" he frowns, forcing himself to sit up. "I- what time is it?"

"Three," Mark whispers back, sounding exhausted. "Can- can I sleep in here? Sorry, I know it's- it's fucking dumb, I know, but I can't stop thinking about-"

"'Course you can," he says, shifting to the side of the bed that's against the wall. "Don't be daft. Did'ja want to talk about it?"

"No- I just wanna sleep. Sorry for waking you up, I'll just put the blanket down." 

Jack nods as if he's not too asleep to comprehend what that means. But then Mark starts laying out his blanket on the floor, and Jack's friendship brain overtakes his logic-and-good-ideas brain. "Mark, it's your fecking house, get in the fecking bed."

Mark doesn't move. It's too dark to properly see his face, but Jack can see the way he's stilled, the way he's staring at Jack as if he's just said something very unexpected. "Are you sure?" It's barely louder than a whisper, as if he can't quite believe it. Jack is too asleep for this fanciful politeness.

"Lie down, asshole," he says, dropping his head back into the pillow before Mark starts moving. There's a pause, and then Jack feels the mattress sink behind him. "Sleep well." Mark might respond, but Jack's already asleep before he's laid down. 

-

Warmth is hanging in his head when he finally stirs. This is odd, as normally staying in Mark's house means he always wakes up cold (the dude blasts the air conditioning like there's no tomorrow) but he welcomes it, stretching out his legs gently in the soft sheets. It's only once he moves that he realises Mark's arms are wrapped around his chest, face buried into his neck. 

Jack goes from asleep to awake _ridiculously_ fast. He takes scent blockers first thing in the morning, so if there was ever a time they were rendered ineffective, it would be now. All it would take would be for Mark to wake up _slightly_ and he'll be able to smell Jack immediately. Very, very slowly, he starts to free himself from Mark's arms, sliding down the bed until he's sat at the foot of it. Every part of his body is begging him to go back- it dizzies him when he stands and just for a second he considers it. Then Mark rolls over and Jack leaves before it's too late. 

He only gets as far as the bathroom before he's falling to his knees, forcing the vomit back down until he can make it over to the toilet. Jack's so dizzy he can barely see, his fingers gripping the toilet seat the only thing keeping him upright as he empties his stomach into the toilet. God, heat sickness really couldn't have come at a worse time. He needs to stop vomiting _now_ so he can take more blockers, but whenever he lifts his head it drops back. Honestly, if he tries to stand up he's _definitely_ going to faint. All he can really do is keep coughing up bile and wait for his body to sort itself out.

"Jack?" Mark calls from outside the door, voice still scratchy from sleep. "Are you vomiting?"

"No," Jack says, vomiting again a few seconds later. Shit.

"Uh... do you need anything? Want me to come in?"

"Can I get some water?" he asks, even though there's a cup by the sink. Anything to get Mark away for just a second so he can compose himself and take his pills. The vomiting seems to have come to an end, so Jack blindly grasps for some tissue to wipe his face and waits for his head to stop spinning. From behind him, he hears Mark at the door again so he lifts his head and attempts to walk over to the door.

"Fucking hell, Seán," Mark is saying, standing above where he's lying on the floor. "Did you pass out?"

"It would seem so," he sighs, pushing himself up into a sitting position against the cabinet. "Give us a sec." Mark passes him the water and disappears for a second, giving him the perfect opportunity to swipe a scent blocker from his toiletries bag and zip it back up. Heat blockers are more complicated, but that's a less pressing matter right this second so he doesn't worry about that. He swallows it and chugs the glass of water and suddenly, he's fine. Maybe the answer to his problem is to keep taking the medication and simply ignore said problem. 

"Sorry," Mark says, coming back in and pouring half a bottle of bleach into the toilet. "Smell makes me gag. You alright? Need me to carry you back to bed?"

"As if you could manage that," Jack grins, finishing the water. "Nah, all better now. Probably delayed alcohol poisoning." Medically, this is not very likely, and Mark does _not_ look convinced, but Jack stands up and gives him a solid thumbs up.

"If you're sure?" he frowns, and Jack is suddenly very aware that he's stood in his boxers next to a fully pajama'd Mark, so he just smiles and brushes it off.

"Right as rain. Just gonna take a quick rinse to- y'know, not be all sick-y." Mark leaves uncertain, but the second he's gone Jack allows himself to sink back to the floor, the door cool against his back. Shit. That was too close. He should have _known_ that sharing a bed with Mark would probably not end very well. Last time he spent the night with an alpha, he'd gone into heat despite his blockers and had to kick them out before they could really work out what was going on. Since then, it was too much of a risk to try and sleep with another alpha. The only people he could safely hook up with were betas. It's fine- there's no reason for him to have to share the bed with Mark again.

Jack takes a cold shower and contemplates excuses for leaving America. Really, it isn't going to work- besides, his apartment is still being re-carpeted and whilst he's not about to run out of money completely, to book two more flights this short notice is going to be _very_ detrimental to his bank account. He'll just have to get a grip.

-

"We should do somethin' today," Jack announces when he comes into the kitchen towel-drying his hair. Mark's still in his pajamas, hunched over a bowl of Cookie Crunch. Really, he's tired and still feels like his body hates him, but if he spends another day sat on the sofa with their shoulders pressed together, he's going to fucking lose it. 

"Uh- we could do, but if I'm being honest I'm _super_ fucking tired."

"Shit- I forgot, no worries, we can just hang out with Chica." 

At the mention of her name, she springs up from next to Mark's feet and comes over to him, wagging her tail. Mark smiles at him, eyes soft and tired, and Jack wishes he could get a fucking grip and get over himself. "Sometimes I kind of wish I could drink," he sighs. "I'm more than happy to not talk about that shit, I just want to forget it."

"Yeah," Jack says, because he's not really sure what to say. That kind of stuff has always freaked him out- even if it's badly faked he stays well away from it. Then he looks out into the garden and remembers, _shit, we're in LA._ "We could always... _not_ drink?" he suggests, plastering a gold star grin on his face. "Weed is legal here, and I would be doing a disservice to my roommate to _not_ smoke any of it."

Mark raises his eyebrows and Jack waits for his silence to sink in and him to realise he's being serious. "I- have you smoked weed before?"

"Haven't you? Like- I know you don't smoke now, but- surely, surely in uni or something?"

"I- dude, I was a dumb nerd in college, none of my friends did _drugs_." The accusatory tone he says it in is almost cute. "I didn't know you smoked it."

"Killian grows it in the bathroom, man. I don't often- I don't have enough fecking time, but sometimes. And in my professional opinion, it would be _great_ for a nice, relaxing afternoon."

"You're such a bad influence," he huffs, rolling his eyes. But he's smiling, and after a minute of Jack towelling his hair he puts the bowl down on the counter and says, "Well- I don't even know how to buy weed, dude!"

"Just text Bob. Or Ethan, probably."

"I- _what_? Why would they know?"

"Mark, are you fucking kidding? Bob _so_ smokes, and I'm pretty sure Ethan does too."

"Nah," he decides, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Siri, call Ethan. There's no way."

"So," Ethan says, an hour later when they're sat on Mark's couch and the small tin open on the table, "Can you roll?"

"Meh," Jack says, waving his hand around in the air. "I'll give it my very best shot." Mark is staring at them both as if they've betrayed him. Ethan tucks his head past Jack's shoulder to smile at Mark, waving a packet of papers around.

"Stop pouting, Markimoo," he says, tapping Mark on the nose. "We aren't going to make you smoke weed, we aren't high school bullies."

"What kind'a bullies did _you_ have? Mine just kicked tah shit out of me for being scrawny."

" _Anyway-_ oh, wait, that's kind of sad," he frowns, patting Jack's cheek. Obviously, he's just joking, but it's hard not to lean into the pat. Stupid Ethan and his stupid scent are one of the most calming things he's ever been around. "Anyway, _Mark_ , there's no peer pressure here. We _are_ going to smoke in your garden, though."

"Well, _obviously_ I wanna try it," he pouts, crossing his arms. "You can't make fun of me for coughing, though."

"Don't worry," Ethan says with a smile, patting Mark on the shoulder. "I have the lung capacity of a drowned child so I'll cough too."

Mark nods, opting to sit in silence and watch them both roll a spliff - Jack's attempt is average, but he's secretly very proud of it because for the last week his hands have been shaking non-stop. At first, Jack kind of thinks he's not going to go for it, and just sit several feet away with Chica watching them smoke with some kind of bemused interest. Ethan chats continuously for the first five minutes; normally Jack finds that kind of thing annoying, but with both of them there it's actually quite nice just to sit and react instead of being the one talking. Mark stands up, almost as if to go inside, and Jack watches his face out of the corner of his eye. 

Then he says, "Can you tell me _why_ you smoke?" to Ethan.

"Tons of reasons. Mostly because it's nice with my ADHD when I don't wanna take my meds. But like, if I just wanna relax or hang out with people. It's not like being drunk."

A pause, then Jack can't help but grin when Mark says, "Can I try it?"

All in all, it goes pretty well. Mark coughs, obviously, but less than either of them thought he would. Ethan makes Tyler come and get him because he hadn't thought about not being able to drive home and Mark smokes another joint with Jack in the garden. By the time they get round to it, it's already early evening. Mark looks ridiculously tired so Jack offers to walk Chica for him. Part of him is hoping he'll come home and Mark will be asleep on the sofa. It just seems nice. 

Instead, he comes home and Mark's ordered pizza, which is arguably even better.

"This is nicer than drinking," Mark announces, dipping a pizza crust in some kind of spicy bullshit that Jack tried and absolutely hated. "I mean- my chest hurts a tiny bit, but still."

"Yeah, but," Jack reasons, taking the largest bite he possibly can. "At least there's not scar tissue cementing in your stomach."

"That's very true. Any negative side effects are substantially better than that happening again." Part of Jack's mind his flashing red in warning as he sinks into the couch to eat and watch _Castlevania_ with Mark (again.) Really, he knows how important it is to _not_ lean on Mark, to keep his neck guarded and not imagine that Mark likes him back. But the living room is pleasantly warm and the weed made the pizza taste probably much better than it actually was, and maybe it won't hurt to relax just for tonight. That was Mark's plan for the day, anyway, so he may as well jump on board with it.

Jack stretches, sighing softly as his shoulders pop and Chica shifts her head on his lap. To his right, Mark looks nearly asleep where he's half curled up on the sofa, arm resting over Chia's torso. It's an atmosphere that Jack feels almost completely at ease in, which is very rare. It's why he convinces himself that it's fine to let his head drop back against the couch, closing his eyes and listening to whatever episode they've made it up to (it's hard to say, they've been sat on the couch for a _while_.) 

He's half asleep when he realises he's been baring his neck subconsciously, but he's too comfortable to care. When he cracks an eye open he could have sworn he saw Mark staring, but it was probably just his imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for the next chapter........!!!!!! let me know if you liked it


	6. ask if we can stay in bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark tilts his chin up with his finger so Jack has to look him in the eyes and says, "I want to help you." Heat spikes softly in his stomach and how is he supposed to say no?
> 
> "Okay," Jack says, soft enough that Mark moves closer to hear him. "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!!!!!!!! big warning  
> also tw for attempted sexual assualt (NOT mark)

Slowly, the stiffness in his neck brings him back to life. It's pitch black outside, and the clock above the TV shows that it's nearly one in the morning. Jack's head is resting in the crook of Mark's neck, essentially lying on top of him with their legs intertwined and Mark's hand resting underneath his t-shirt on his back. Warmth burns up the back of his neck into his head and it's too much, far too much- he needs to cool down _now_ and not be anywhere near Mark until he's reset his body. He rolls off of Mark, who seems pretty dead to the world, and lets himself out of the front door without a key.

Even in the cool air of the night he's too hot, t-shirt too heavy on his burning skin. This is fine- it's happened once before when he spent the night with an alpha, all he needs to do is cool down, take some deep breaths and he can go back. Mark will never have to know. Maybe it's taking him a little bit longer to calm down, but he's sure it will kick in soon. It's fine. _It's fine_. 

Jack is stumbling over his feet now, dizziness washing up his spine in waves and he doesn't even know where he is but he keeps walking until his knees give out. The concrete is cool under his hands and he welcomes it, sliding down whatever wall he's sat against until his face is pressed against the floor. Just waiting for the fever to pass. It has to pass.

Right?

Another wave of heat rolls through his body and he groans at the throbbing in his head. It's almost impossible to sit up when he tries so he doesn't. Jack's convinced this should have stopped by now - it has to, he takes heat blockers so strong that they technically aren't even legal. There's no way that-

Slowly, something starts leaking down the inside of his thighs. 

"No," Jack says, rubbing his eyes as if that will make it go away. "No- no, _please_ -" he begs, but slick keeps leaking out of him and he can't stand up when he tries. He doesn't even know where the fuck he _is,_ but he's in heat. What the fuck is he supposed to do? He can't call Mark, because then he'll _know_ and Jack won't ever be able to look him in the eyes again. 

Hands shaking so badly he nearly drops the phone, Jack calls Ethan. 

"Seán, it's two in the morning," he says, though he sounds pretty awake.

"I- _I'm in heat_ , I don't- what do I- _fuck_ ," he whines, pushing his hair off of his head. 

"Oh- _shit_ , um- um- are you with Mark? Is he awake?"

" _No,_ " he grits out, because his body doesn't want to be speaking right now. "I- I dunno where I am. Went- went for a walk?"

"At two AM? I- nevermind, not important. I don't have my car, man, it's still at Mark's. Tyler's gone now. You need to call Mark."

" _No_ ," he insists, wiping his eyes. He can't tell Mark. "It'll- I'll ruin _everything_."

"You _won't_ ," Ethan promises. "He won't think any different of you. He didn't when I told him."

"Yeah- yeah, but- I- I _love_ him, Ethan, it's different." Jack hisses as another spike of heat burns in his stomach, too fevered to try and take back what he's just said. It's true, it's probably been true since they met each other, even if Jack wasn't ever planning on telling anyone.

"Jack," Ethan says, obviously trying really hard to sound firm. "If you're in heat in the middle of random suburbs, you aren't _safe_. You know that. I don't want to have to do this, but if you don't call Mark, I will."

"Fuck you," Jack rasps, but there's no venom behind it. "I'll call him. I- I don't know where I am, though."

"Turn your location on. Call Mark now, okay? Be safe." Ethan hangs up and Jack's left staring at his phone with the little coherency he has left. If he could just- just _dunk_ his head into cold water, he'd have enough clarity to walk home. But there's no cold water anywhere near him, so he curses Ethan and calls Mark.

It rings out the first time, but Jack can hear loud voices a block away and even though he doesn't want to tell Mark, he really doesn't want to be attacked by strangers, so he keeps calling. Mark picks up on the third try, grunting into the receiver to show he's just woken up.

"Uh," Jack says, because what the fuck is he supposed to say now. "I dunno how to- to say this, Mark," he says. "Fuck- _fuck,_ " he groans, and he wants to throw his phone and never speak to Mark again. 

"Dude- are you okay? Wait, where are you? What's going on?"

"I lied to you- not just you, I lied to everyone, and now I don't know where I _am_ or what to do because this hasn't happened before and-"

"Seán," Mark says in a very _alpha_ tone, enough to make Jack clamp his mouth shut. "Take a deep breath and tell me _slowly_." 

This is easier said than done when Jack's body is hyperventilating on autopilot, but after a few seconds he manages to get a _slight_ grip on reality. "I'm not a beta," he says through gritted teeth. Mark doesn't say anything, so he pushes on. "I- I'm an omega, and I've gone into- into _heat_ but I don't know where the fuck I am and- I think maybe there's people coming? But I can't- I'm too dizzy, I can't stand up-"

"Stay where you are," Mark instructs, deadly serious. "Don't move. Turn your location on. Have you got keys?" 

Jack hears a car door slam and the engine start through the phone. "No."

"Shit," Mark says, though how keys would help he's not really sure. "Is there anything near you that you can use to defend yourself?"

" _No_ ," he whines, not being able to help the noise that escapes him as another wave of slick leaks out. Mark's breathing gets incrementally heavier. "Bring- _fuck-_ bring a towel for your car."

"I don't give a shit about my car, asshole, I'm coming to get you now. I'll call you if I can't find you, okay?" Jack's location is on so he just makes an affirmative noise into the phone, sticking it back in his pocket without hanging up so he can press his face against the cool pavement. He's pretty sure that he slips in and out of consciousness a few times over the next five minutes (well, maybe it's been five minutes, it's hard to tell.) The voices from earlier are much closer now, but Jack can barely lift his head, let alone run away or attempt to hide. This is something he's always _detested_ about being an omega; it doesn't matter how strong he is, or how quick he is, because in heat he's completely defenseless. Omegas who go into heat alone in public places are attacked nearly every single time. Jack isn't going to let that happen if it kills him.

"...then she was all _no, I don't like_ _it_ , but- wait." The voices are closer now, maybe just around the corner. Jack's praying it's a couple of drunk guys making their way home, too drunk to notice him tucked around the side of what he _thinks_ is a post office. "Can you smell that?"

His heart is racing at a million miles per hour and he bites down on his lip, _hard_ , to stop himself from whimpering. Pathetic fucking body. "No, dude- c'mon, we're nearly home. I've got fricking _work_ in _five hours,_ Mike." They walk past the alley his huddled in and he holds his breath, the strong scent of two different alphas assaulting his senses. There's a third, probably a beta, and he's the one encouraging them to keep walking.

"Down here," says the first alpha, a growl deep in his throat. "There's no way I'm passing up an opportunity like _this_." Jack tries to lift his head, maybe start crawling down in the opposite direction but his elbow gives way as soon as he leans on it. "Look, it can't even move."

"I'm fucking going home. Come on, Joey." The second alpha stays quiet and Jack nearly vomits, because he barely has the strength to fend off _one_ person, let alone two. But then the beta says, " _Finally_ ," and the sound of two sets of footsteps keep walking. Surely they aren't just going to leave, knowing their friend is about to hurt someone?

" _God_ , you smell _amazing,_ " he growls, laughing as Jack yelps and tries to crawl away again. Maybe he should try and vomit on him? Anything to just get him to fuck off. "Come here, omega." _Obviously_ , Jack ignores him, rolling onto his back so he can at least see what's going on. The guy is probably about six foot and reasonably scrawny. Normally, this would be no issue- Jack's kicked the shit out of bigger guys before, but not in this state. He can't even stand up. "I said, _come here_." 

Jack's ready when he comes forward, using as much energy as he can muster into kicking his leg up, connecting his boots with the guy's balls as hard as possible. This is enough to wind him and Jack _forces_ his body to start moving, crawling down the alleyway as fast as possible. Something pierces his left palm but he keeps going, nearly reaching the corner when something grabs the back of his t-shirt, yanking him back enough hard to choke. "You shouldn't have done that, sweetheart," he hisses, flipping Jack over and grabbing him by the throat. " _Stop fighting it_."

" _Get off of me_ ," Jack hisses, growl failing in his throat. That doesn't stop him from flailing his arms around, solidly connecting his elbow with the guy's nose. Before he can wriggle out of his grips, his arms are pinned above his head, the guy grinning down at him.

"You're fiesty, aren't you? _Submit to me_."

"Go fuck yourself," he says, kneeing him in the back until he's sat on his legs, rendering him completely immobile. Jack's running out of options but he _swears_ he can hear a car speeding nearby, so all he has to do is buy himself enough time until Mark gets here. So he leans his head back as if baring his throat, waits for the guy to lean in and fucking _headbutts_ him hard enough that his vision starts swimming. The hand comes back to his throat. This guy has successfully pinned his legs, arm and head, so with no other option, Jack spits in his face.

He's very thankful for the spitting competitions his gross siblings used to make him participate in, because it lands right in the guy's eye. " _I'll kill you_ ," he growls, fingers tightening on Jack's throat. A car screeches to a stop a few meters away from the alleyway, but the guy is too focused to realise it, baring his teeth as if he's about to bite him.

When Mark barrells into his side, he kind of accidentally kicks Jack in the ribs, but it's worth it. There's enough adrenaline shooting through his veins that he manages to sit up, dragging his body back towards the car as Mark repeatedly socks the guy in the face. As much as Jack kind of wants him to kill the guy, by nature and morals Mark is _not_ violent and would probably regret causing permanent harm after the moment passed. "Hey," he calls out, and Mark stops hitting him. "Can we- can we go?"

"Did he hurt you?" Mark asks, dropping to his knees beside Jack. He's so familiar, so soft and welcoming that Jack's body collapses onto him, seeking out his neck to scent him. Before he can apologise and try to lean away Mark is scooping him up, carrying him back to the passenger seat of his car. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he breathes, burying his face in Mark's neck. He smells like home, like safety and like everything Jack's body has been desperate for since he left the house. "Sorry."

"Don't be," is all he says, sitting him down in the seat and belting him in before slamming the door. Jack must black out again because suddenly they're driving and Mark's gently shaking him by the shoulder. "I don't- I've never been around an omega- in, uh, in heat, I mean. What do you- what should I do?"

"Cold shower," Jack says, head too foggy to be embarrassed about the soft whines that keep escaping him. The only research he's done around heats is how to _stop_ them, how to lessen them or buy himself some time, and a sudden shock of cold water is one of the only ways. It won't stop it, obviously - once a heat has started then it won't stop until it's over - but it'll buy him some time, even if it's only half an hour of coherency. "Icy cold."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it'll- _fuck_ ," he groans, another wave of heat burning through him. "Sorry, it'll make me- like, coherent for a bit."

"Okay," Mark says, probably driving a little bit too fast. Jack thinks he must black out again, because one second they're driving and the next they're already parked right outside Mark's front door. Jack is determined to walk, loosely wanting to hold onto what little dignity he has left, but Mark is there to catch him when his legs give way. He only made it two steps away from the car. "Shit," Mark says, but he doesn't explain why. His fingers feel like they're trembling where he's holding Jack up by the waist, but Jack's skin also feels like it's on fire everywhere Mark touches him, so he might just be imagining it. "Nearly there," he says, almost more to himself than to Jack. 

The cold water stings his skin, but it's so relieving he nearly cries. Mark rushes to the kitchen to get him a bottle of water and Jack just sits in the bottom of the shower, choking down deep breaths to try and steady himself. After a few minutes, his body temperature feels nearly back to normal, so he reaches back and twists the handle until the water cuts out. Mark is sat on the bathroom floor just watching him, handing him the water whenever he reaches out for it. "I can't fucking believe this," he sighs, not sure how he's supposed to look Mark in the eyes. "I'm- I'm sorry, Mark. I know it's late, but if you just- just drive me to a hotel, I'll be outta your hair."

"You have a heat partner?" Mark asks, voice too controlled, concealing any emotion Jack could possibly pick out.

"No."

"Then I'm not driving you to a hotel."

"What? Dude, I can't- I am _not_ making you deal with this pathetic mess. I'll start- I'm going to lose the little control I still have and start asking you to- y'know. This isn't _your_ problem."

"Jack, heats alone are _really_ dangerous. I'm not trying to- to suggest anything, you can lock the door and whatever you need to do, but if you're by yourself you won't eat or drink anything. You could get really fucking sick, dude."

"'s not like I know that shit. I- I don't know how alphas get around heat, but I think it's maybe, um. Similar, in the whole losing control thing. I don't want you to do something you're gonna regret later."

"Why would I regret it?" Mark says, voice uncharacteristically quiet. For just a moment, Jack's heart swells in his chest and he thinks it might burst. "You're my best friend, dude, and if you need help then I'm not just going to lock you in the bedroom."'

Of course. Mark is just being a good friend. Jack shouldn't accept, because he's barely managing to cope with his feelings for Mark _without_ having sex with him. This could push it over the edge. He wants it- of course he wants it, he'd do anything to have it, but it's not a good idea. But then Mark tilts his chin up with his finger so Jack has to look him in the eyes and says, "I want to help you." Heat spikes softly in his stomach and how is he supposed to say no?

"Okay," Jack says, soft enough that Mark moves closer to hear him. "Okay."

"But- I mean, obviously, you don't have to say yes, I won't be offended. It's just- if you want-" Mark is saying, stumbling over his words, but then it doesn't matter because Jack is leaning forward and kissing him.

It's better than he ever imagined it could be, the way they fit together, and in that moment Jack knows that as long as he lives, he'll never get over Mark. He's kissing him with so much passion that Jack _melts_ into him, hand loosely fisted in his shirt. Mark threads his finger through his hair and laughs softly, pulling away. "You're still _soaking_ wet, dude. You'll catch a cold if you don't get dry." From years of living in the raniest fucking place on Earth, Jack knows this is kind of a myth, but Mark is wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him up, and he sees no reason to complain. 

"I need to, uh. Need to nest," he says, breath already coming in soft pants. The effect of the cold water is already wearing off, and earlier he was nearly in the full depths of his heat, so he doubts he'll have very long. "Your room?"

Mark stops, warm against Jack's side. "Would you be comfortable in my room?"

"Smells like you," Jack says, because he's losing all sense of not embarrassing himself. "'s better."

"If you say so," Mark says, but he's smiling at he floor as he walks them to his bedroom. "Do you want any help?"

This throws Jack, because he doubts he'll be able to explain it in a way that will make sense to an alpha. Nesting is the only part of heat he has any vague positive feelings about, because it's his own private safe space, the only thing he has any control over during heats. "Uh," he elaborates. His mind feels a bit like overcooked jelly, and you're not even meant to cook jelly. "Nesting is- um."

"Is it a private thing? That's fine, dude- it's _your_ heat," Mark says, and it's still weird to even hear him acknowledge it. Mark knows he's an omega. "Is there anything I can do while you're getting ready?"

"Water," Jack says, because getting this right is important. Before his sister offered to help him and let him stay in her spare bedroom (rather than with Killian) during his heats, he would _always_ end up seriously dehydrated and pretty darn hungry after his heat. Obviously, Alison stayed very far away from the actual _heat_ thing, but it was always less intense with her. Having an alpha to protect him and just be _near_ him made it easier to deal with, even though she wasn't in the room. But then Allison got a mate and Jack felt too bad imposing, so he just stopped having heats. "Uh. Snacks 'n stuff."

"The kitchen's just there?"

"We aren't gonna wanna move." Mark's eyes seem to almost darken for a second, but Jack almost definitely imagined it. "I'll get changed 'n stuff." Mark sits him down on the bed and says to let him know when Jack's ready, closing the door behind him. Now he's here he's desperate for his nest, enough that moving is much easier and he starts to pull off his t-shirt,leaving it in the sink in the en suite because it feels rude to leave wet clothes on the floor. 

"Hey- oh, sorry," Marks saying from behind him, though he doesn't stop looking at Jack. "I thought I'd bring some of your clothes- like, you can borrow mine if you want, but I thought you'd want your own underwear."

"Thanks, he says, crossing his arms over his chest. Mark is looking at him with _something_ in his eyes, and when Jack steps forward to take the clothes, Mark steps forward and kisses him. It's softer than in the bathroom, but then Mark grasps Jack by the waist and kisses him harder when he gasps. There's a whine bubbling in his throat when Mark pulls away, holding the clothes out to him. "Sorry- right, nesting."

"Right," Mark echoes, and his smile hurts Jack's chest. It's a bad idea. Jack couldn't care less.

It takes him about twenty minutes before the room feels right, a ridiculous amount of spare blankets from the drawers under Mark's bed acting as the walls draped over the pillows. Opening the door for Mark to see his nest, to see _him_ like this feels like something he can't take back. The look on Mark's face when he tells him to come in is something he doesn't want to take back.

The third time they kiss is Jack's favourite (though, he thinks every kiss will be his favourite until the next,) Mark walking him back towards the bed until his knees it it and he falls. Mark's hand cradles his head before it meets the bed and then he's on Jack, his thigh a solid weight between Jack's legs. He's been hard for _hours_ but there's been too much happening to really focus on it. Now it's _all_ he can focus on, Mark's sweatpants creating the perfect amount of friction against his own boxers. Already, he can feel slick start to leak from him, breaking away from the kiss to whine when Mark softly rolls his hips down. 

From the bedside table, Jack's phone starts to ring. Mark pulls away to pick it up and Jack can't help but whimper at the lack of contact, internally hating his body for being so fucking _needy_. "It's Ethan? Should I decline?"

"Mmm," he says, before his real brain kicks in. "Wait- fuck, answer it." Wordlessly, Mark hands it to him, hands stroking through his hair has Jack answers and puts it to his ear. "Ethan."

"Are you okay? Your location says you're at Mark's, right?"

"Stalker," he says, but his head feels happy at the fact that Ethan called. "Yeah. It's okay now."

"Make sure to use protection," he says in the same deadly serious voice, and Jack hangs up immediately. 

"I'll explain later," Jack says, flicking his phone onto silent and then dropping it on the bedroom floor. And then, just because he can, he says, "Kiss me." Mark does so immediately, cradling Jack's face in his hands. The room is starting to get too hot, and every time he moves his shirt scratches uncomfortably against his skin. Sparks tingle under his skin everywhere Mark touches and he wants more, he wants _everything_ Mark is willing to give him so he presses up against him, pulling at the hem of his shirt. " _Off_. Itchy."

Mark laughs but sits up immediately, pulling his shirt over his head. Jack's hand goes immediately to the tent in his sweatpants, palming the bulge until he groans. "I can't take my shirt off very well if you're doing that." Jack giggles, pulling away and tracing his finger along Mark's stomach. Jack's not alone in thinking Mark is attractive, because he _is_ , and he knows he is. But right now, staring up at him with his shirt off and his hair fluffed up, Jack think's he's maybe the most attractive person he's ever met. "Yours too?"

"Please," Jack breathes, and there's no mistaking how Mark's eyes darken at this. Mark gently pulls off his shirt and pushes his hair off of his damp forehead, leaning down to kiss him. It's amazing but Jack wants _more_ , rolling his hips up until a growl rumbles in Mark's chest. God, he smells- it's perfect, deeper and earthier than it's ever been before. It's enough to make him pull away, to bury his face into Mark's neck and gently bite at his throne. Desperately he wants to _bite_ him, to claim him and be claimed by him, but they didn't talk about that. Still, the groan that springs up from his throat, low and unhinged, is worth every second. " _More_ ," he whines, and Mark starts kissing down his neck, running a fingernail over one of his nipples and laughing softly against his skin when he hisses in response. 

"Alright," he says, stopping to bite at Jack's hipbones. "Bare with me- I've never, with a guy," he's saying, and Jack lifts his head to see what he's doing before Mark starts mouthing at his cock through his boxers. His hips move for him, twitching up to Mark's touch because he's so oversensitive that this tiny touch is driving him insane. "Can I-"

"Yeh, _yes_ , _please,_ " Jack pants, because the answer is yes no matter what he was planning on asking. Mark pulls his boxers down and grasps Jack's cock into his hand, squeezing the base before bringing the head into his mouth. An embarrassingly high-pitched moan escapes his throat before he can help it, and he bites down on his hand immediately after because _fuck_ , Mark's mouth is- "Christ," he hisses, fisting a hand in Mark's hair. He's so _eager_ , so determined to please him that it's the best blowjob Jack thinks he's ever had. Heat is burning through his head, rolling in waves of pleasure throughout his body. Slick is leaking out of him heavily to the point where he's almost uncomfortable, but Mark doesn't seem to mind. More whines threaten to escape and he bites down until he tastes blood, hips twitching up uncontrollably until Mark pins them down with his arm. Something about being held down makes arousal bubble under his skin and he's not going to last, it's too much and not enough at the same time. "Mark, _Mark_ ," he whines, fingers tightening in his hair. "I'm- I'm gonna cum," he warns, but Mark's head just speeds up in concordance with his hand. Jack's close, has been on the edge of something for _hours_ but then Mark's fingers start creeping up between his thighs.

Jack's back tightens and arches as he cums, Mark not slowing for a second and swallowing until Jack is shaking with overstimulation. "Your hand's bleeding," Mark says somewhere above him, though it takes him a minute to work out what he's said from the spinning in his head. 

"Mmh?" he asks, blindly accepting the water he's handed and drinking half of the bottle. "T'ere was glass in the alley."

"No, I mean- wait- Seán, has there been _glass_ in your hand this whole time?"

Jack shrugs, curling into the corner of his nest so his back is pressed up against the wall. "I dunno, it probably came out in the shower."

"Show me," Mark says, more of an instruction that a question. Jack is still recovering, but sitting up and seeing him a few inches away in his sweatpants does something to his insides. "Let me clean this?"

"Don't mind," Jack says, even though he doesn't want Mark to leave the nest. He probably still can't walk very well judging from how his leg muscles are shaking. Mark rises, but before he goes he kisses him softly on the forehead. 

Jack lies back, too overwhelmed with hormones and exhaustion to care that he's exposed and still hard. Underneath he's desperate for Mark, wants him to fuck him until his legs shake, knot him until he can't _move_. But clearly first aid is much more important. 

"Here," Mark's saying, dabbing a purple liquid that stings like a bitch along the jagged cut on his palm before wrapping a small bandage around it. "I- why'd you bite your hand? It's bleeding."

Jack shrugs again, throwing an arm over his face so he doesn't have to look at Mark. These moments of coherency are almost scary because they feel _real_ , different to heat-crazed sex. "I'm, um. I can get pretty loud- it's embarrassing."

"Jack, it's _you_ , obviously it's loud. Don't- you don't have to be quiet."

"Yeah?" he smiles, pulling Mark back down so he's only a few inches away. "Doesn't it bother you?"

Mark pulls a face, fingers dragging through Jack's hair. "Are you kidding? You're- it's like, the hottest thing I've ever heard in real life, so no. It doesn't bother me." Jack kisses him, kisses him like he's everything he's ever wanted and in a way, he is. "What should- should we-" Mark gets out in between kisses, finger trailing over Jack's jaw. 

"Fuck me," Jack says, voice scratchy with want already. "I need you to fuck me."

Immediately, Marks fingers are grasping at his thighs and sending little spikes of pleasure directly to the warmth building in his abdomen. "God," Mark groans, pressing a finger into Jack's entrance and watching him writhe. "You smell so- _fuck_." Jack just whines in response, shifting his hips so Mark's finger twists in _just_ the right way. 

" _More_ ," he pleads, gasping when another finger pushes inside of him. After a second his fingers speed up and he's asking if Jack can take another, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck. "Am not gonna break," he breathes out, wrapping a leg around Mark's waist. 

"You look so beautiful like this, fucking yourself on my fingers," Mark says, voice hush against his ear and almost in awe. Jack just mewls helplessly, fingers scrabbling on the sheet for purchase. "Can I- _fuck,_ Seán, can I-"

"Please," he whines, gasping as Mark pulls his fingers out. He lifts his head to watch him lick the slick off of his fingers, eyes heavy with arousal as he stares down at Jack. "Mark, _Mark_ , please fuck me- I need, I need you, I need you to- to knot me, I-" he's babbling now but Mark doesn't seem to care, just strokes his sweaty face, drops down to kiss him. The need is almost too much and he's trying his hardest not to beg him even more.

"Okay," Mark whispers, lifting Jack's other leg and hoisting it around his waist. "Ready?"

Jack nods and suddenly Mark is slowly pushing inside of him. 

It _burns_ in the most perfect way possible and Jack's nails scratch against Mark's back as he bottoms out. Fire rumbles through his whole body, too much and not enough at the same time. " _Fuck_ ," Mark groans, low and sultry in his ear. "So- so _tight._ " Jack whines, shifting his hips so that Mark sinks even deeper inside of him. "Can I-"

" _Move_ ," he begs, meeting Mark's eyes as he pushes Jack's hair off of his head. Mark seems to test the waters, inching his hips out before pushing back in. "Mark."

"I- my instinct is telling me to- to rut, but-"

" _Do it_ ," Jack says, squeezing Mark's cock until he growls and his head drops forward. "I'm not gonna break." Mark bites down on his shoulder, hopefully hard enough to draw blood as he pulls out. Jack can feel the head of his cock but then he _slams_ back in hard enough for Jack to see stars. Whenever he'd imagined fucking Mark before now, he always hoped he'd be rough but thought that realistically, he'd end up being a big softie. This is everything that had always been in his hottest wet dreams, the way that Mark is brutally rutting into him, the way he's holding Jack hard enough to bruise. Something is curling in his abdomen, building up in a way he's never felt before. 

"Fuck- _fuck,_ Jack- I'm gonna- can I knot you, _please_ , please-" 

Jack sinks his teeth into Mark's neck, not hard enough to claim but hard enough that he growls, rutting up _perfectly_ into him. He takes this as yes and Jack can already feel his knot swelling inside of him. After a few more slow thrusts Jack's whining uncontrollably, nails scratching into Mark's back. He can barely see, can't think about anything other than Mark fucking up into him.

"I'm so- _close_ ," he chokes out, some wretched noise close to a wail breaking out of his throat when Mark slows to a stop for a second. "No- don't _stop_ , why would you _stop_ ," he groans, but his body is too exhausted for him to lift his hips. Mark smiles down at him - he looks _beautiful,_ skin glowing with tousled hair staring at him. The sharp canines and dark eyes are so alpha but it's still Mark, and he kind of wants this moment to last forever. 

"Wait," he murmurs, and then Jack can't protest because he's leaning down and kissing him. It's filthy and sweet at the same time and the thrumming _need_ under his skin intensifies. Just as it nearly gets too much, Jack feels a strong hand grip his thigh, lifting it to rest on Mark's shoulder. Another growl rumbles from his chest and he bites down on Jack's lip as his groan breaks in his throat, urging Mark on with his ankle. Mark pulls away, presses their foreheads together and Jack loves him, he's never been more certain of anything. 

Then he drops his mouth to Jack's neck and starts fucking up into him. With Jack's leg up he's sinking in impossibly deeper and he feels like he's been electrocuted, every nerve on fire at once. He can't speak, can barely move or _think_ , just clench down around Mark's knot and-

When he cums, his vision goes white. He feels his back arch perfectly as if there's a live wire, body moving out of his control. Distantly, he feels Mark slow and he whines, spurring him on with his leg.

"It'll be too much," Mark says, strained voice tapering off into a moan as Jack lazily rolls his hips.

"Want you. Finish," he sighs, reaching up to trace Mark's jawline. Really, it is too much for his oversensitive skin as Mark starts to thrust back into him, but every movement of his hips is jarring him in the best way possible. Slowly, Mark starts to lose his rhythm until his body goes tight, hips snapping up erratically as he cums inside of Jack. The feeling is earth-shattering and a third orgasm tears up through his skin and he whites out again.

He's half-conscious when Mark slowly pulls out, unable to stop the embarrassing sound that escapes him at the loss of contact. "I'll clean us up, okay?" he murmurs, and Jack feels fingers brushing through his hair. The last thing he wants is for Mark to leave, but staying in bed with Jack and doing gay stuff like _cuddling_ was never discussed and it probably doesn't stand as part of their agreement. Still, the air feels strange against his skin and all he wants is for Mark to be pressed against him. 

The cloth is warm when it's wiped gently across his stomach, but the material still feels scratchy against his skin like everything else that isn't Mark. Vaguely he's aware of Mark disappearing, but he must black out again as suddenly he's right there, sitting behind Jack so he can lean on his chest. "Drink some water?" He's warm where Jack is seated between his legs, holding the cup of water to his mouth without him even needing to ask. "You okay?"

"Floating," he sighs, waiting for Mark to put the cup down. He lets his natural instinct take over, curling up around Mark's chest and burying his face in his neck. It's only in this position that he starts to truly relax. Mark smells like _him_ , as if they've melted together. "Sorry, 's comfy."

Surprisingly, Mark just presses a kiss to his forehead and lies down. "Blanket?"

"Only the soft one." 

Mark sits up to pull it over them and Jack's asleep before he lies back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you liked this massive chpater! obvs my fave so far


	7. there comes a day where you rectify who you are with who you want to be with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People like Felix, who he's been friends with for years and years - sure, they aren't as close as they used to be, but he's still very important to Jack - how are they going to react? Are they even going to want to be friends with someone who's lied to them the entire time he knew them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's late! life is hectic

Soft rainfall on the roof outside is what wakes Jack up just after six in the morning. Mark is intertwined with him on the couch with Jack's head buried in his chest, fingers still loosely resting in his hair. An overwhelming wave of emotions washes over him, a mix of everything from _I love him_ to _this is never going to happen again_. One thing is becoming increasingly louder, though, as Jack stares at Mark's sleeping face next to his.

 _You've made a mistake_.

Jack's friendship with Mark is probably one of the best things that ever happened to him. There's a _reason_ he ended up falling in love with him, similar to the reason he loved having him as a friend so much, but that doesn't matter now. Stupid Jack and his stupid inability to control his body has lead them to this, and they're never going to recover from this. Maybe it'll be okay until Jack leaves again, but then Mark probably won't invite him back now that he knows he's an omega and his heat could spring up at any time. Mark will tell Bob and Wade what happened, and there won't be anymore group recordings. Mark will stop Skyping him at shit in the morning just because Jack can't sleep.

What the fuck has he done?

He's slipping out of Mark's grip before he even realises what he's doing, backing towards the door where his shoes are while Chica eyes him hopefully. All he's completely sure of is that he has to leave, has to be away from Mark while he decides how he's going to fix this before it breaks completely. It's still dark when he closes the front door behind him, but at least this time he's semi-aware of where he's going. There's a park about ten minutes away with a little rain shelter, so he's going to sit there and he's not leaving until he's figured this shit out. 

Only, maybe the rain is a lot heavier than it had looked from the garden door - he's not even there and his jumper is already soaked through. A coat probably would have been his friend, but it's too late for that now. Maybe he can call Ethan and just walk to his house? He seems to know more than Jack about being an omega anyway.

Never mind. Jack didn't bring his phone. 

It takes a few stares from early morning walkers for him to realise he probably still smells like heat. It makes sense, because normally his heats last for a week and it's been about 5 days, but he still hates it. What if he bumps in to someone he knows? Unlikely, as he's not aware of anyone who lives anywhere near Mark in LA, but still. They'd know. They'd have to know as soon as they were a couple feet away from him. Going from determination to never tell anyone to _this_ is making him feel sick. People like Felix, who he's been friends with for years and _years_ \- sure, they aren't as close as they used to be, but he's still very important to Jack - how are they going to react? Are they even going to want to be friends with someone who's lied to them the entire time he knew them? Are they going to want to be friends with an _omega_?

 _They all like Ethan well enough_ , his mind supplies, and that's true, but it's different. Jack is the last person to pay any attention to omega stereotypes, but Ethan does fit them pretty well, and that's probably the reason why the more asshole-y friends they have don't have an issue with him. Jack's as far away from the stereotype as he could physically force his body to be. Doe eyes and soft hips don't matter when he's spent years with personal trainers and is strong enough for knothead alphas to back down. Maybe when he's by himself he likes to be quiet, but outside of that he's always fighting to be the loudest person in the room because he'd rather be annoying than be pegged as a _submissive_. Jack's not an alpha toy. He's his own person.

Does wanting to be with Mark go against that? Even if he did feel the same way (see: he definitely doesn't,) there's no guarantee that he doesn't want his mate to be a proper omega. The opposite of Jack. It's funny how Jack isn't really anything- he's not a beta, no matter how much he wants to be, but he's hardly very good at being an omega either. Not funny ha-ha, but funny in a way that feels like rose thorns are growing inside of his chest.

The shelter is empty when he finally gets there. It's a poor excuse of a shelter, honestly, and the rain is still lashing at his legs where the walls don't meet the floor, but his shoes were already soaked and it's definitely better than nothing. It's light soon enough, though the sun is hardly visible through the rain clouds and they don't show any sign of stopping. Distantly, Jack is aware of his fingers burning from the cold and his whole body shaking, but he can't stop thinking about _everything_. It's too much. He wishes Mark was here. He never wants to look at Mark again. 

"Excuse me, honey? Are you alright?" 

There's a lady stood in front of him, cradling a small dog under her thick raincoat. The first thing that comes to him is _alpha_ , but she smells claimed so his body doesn't take it as a huge threat. "It's too cold to be out here without a coat, honey. What's your name?"

"Jack," he says, and only now does he realise how much his teeth are chattering.

"Well, that accent certainly isn't from around here. What are you doin' in a park all by yourself?"

Maybe it's the hormones or the cold, or maybe it's just how _nice_ this woman is being, but when he opens his mouth to answer he bursts into tears.

"Fuck," he curses, trying to calm down and _stop_ embarrassing himself as quickly as possible. "I'm- sorry, I don't-"

"Hey, hey- it's alright, honey. Take a deep breath, okay? You want a hug?" Jack does want a hug. She doesn't seem to care that he's soaking wet and squeezes him anyway, rubbing his back in the same way his Mam used to when he was sick. "Have you got somewhere to go back to?"

"'m staying with- with my friend, but- sorry, this is- it's stupid, I don't-"

"Jack, honey. If it's private, that's okay. But if you want someone to complain to, I'm very good at listening."

This _is_ dumb, spilling his darkest secrets to a lovely dog walking lady in a park at 8 in the morning, but at the moment it feels better than telling nobody. His only other option is politely declining and going back home, and he doesn't want to do that yet. "I think- I think I'm in love with my friend. I had- sorry, this is gross, but my- um, my _heat_ came out of nowhere and nobody knew I was an omega but he offered to- um, to help?"

"It's not gross, honey, it's natural. No need to ashamed of something like that." She pauses, rearranging the dog so it's curled up comfortably inside her jacket. He wants to pet it. "What's the issue, then?"

"I don't- it's over now, and I still love him but he doesn't feel the same way and I don't know how I'm supposed to go back and keep staying with him and pretend that it was just some one time favour and- and-" and he's crying again, big ugly sobs that shake his whole body. "Sorry _,_ " he chokes out. "Probably not what you were expecting on your dog-walk."

"Oh, don't be silly, honey. You looked so sad before I came over." There's a pause, because even though she's lovely, there's not many solutions you can give for this particular problem. "Here, do you want to hold her?" Jack's still crying, but he can't help but smile anyway as she holds out the puppy. "She's a border collie, maybe nine weeks old. Just thought I'd get her used to the rain, but then it got too heavy." Somehow, holding this stupid tiny puppy is calming him. It's probably something stupid and omegan. "Listen, honey. I think you should get back home. I'll call my husband to come and pick us up, because Lord know when this rain is gonna stop. Your friend is probably real worried about you out in this weather."

"I dunno what to say to him," he sighs, scratching behind the puppy's ear. 

"If he's a real good friend, just be honest. If he doesn't feel the same way, I'm sure you can move past it. But you never know."

"Maybe." Really, inside, he knows he's not going to tell Mark. As long as they stay friends, he can live with it, can live with squashing down his feelings until they go away. Eventually, Mark will meet someone else, and either that will give him the fuel to move on or it'll kill him. There's not much point in running away from that. "Sorry, we don't have to chat about my problems until your husband gets here. I didn't even get your name- it's nice to meet you."

The woman's husband turns out to be just as nice as her, some beta guy who tries to tell Jack to come over for a warm cup of coffee and a chat. Obviously, he wants to, but they sat and talked for so long in the park that he's been gone for a solid few hours and he feels like he maybe it's time to get home. So he thanks them, takes their address to bring them some chocolates at some point, and gets out of the car.

Mark's outside before he even gets to the door, pulling him into a tight hug even though it's still pissing it down with rain. "You're an idiot," he says into Jack's hair. "Come inside."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you like it


	8. and i can't make the two things co-exist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There it was, clear as day- Mark doesn't feel the same about him. At least he knows now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!! it's nearly done now but im hoping it will be a bit longer - do you want more?

"So," Mark says, handing him a cup of coffee. Jack's huddled by the radiator in a towel despite Mark's incessant begging that he go and change out of the wet clothes. "Where were you?"

"Went for a walk."

Mark sinks his head into his hands. "Jack, it's actually torrential downpour outside-"

"Well- it wasn't even raining that much when I left, you trying to be my mam or something'?" he snaps, regretting it instantly. He's tired and he can't stop shaking no matter how much he presses up against the radiator. He doesn't look up at Mark, because he's expecting him to look kind of hurt and that'll just pile onto the guilt he's already harbouring. 

What he's not expecting is for Mark to slam his hands down on the table. "I don't need to be your fucking mom to be _worried_ about you! Jesus, Jack, I woke up and you were gone- you're still in heat, do you know how dangerous it is to fuck with your body temperature like that? You didn't even take your phone or _any_ keys, so I couldn't even leave to look for you!"

"'m sorry. I didn't-" he tries, but his eyes start watering and he is _not_ crying in front of Mark, not if he wants to cling to any shred of dignity he still has left. "I was overwhelmed. I don't know anything about any of this omega bullshit."

This seems to catch Mark off guard. "Have you not... what do you mean? How does this normally happen?"

"It doesn't."

Mark sighs, but he doesn't sound angry anymore. "I have, um. A few questions, if that's alright." Jack shrugs as if to say _knock yourself out_ and Mark sits down across of him, cradling his own mug in his hands. "Who do you normally share heats with?"

"Nobody." Mark's presence is warm and inviting and Jack is so bitterly cold, but he can't bring himself to even look at him, let alone move closer. "I take suppressants." There's a silence, as if he's inviting him to say more without trying to be nosy, so Jack takes it. "I used to take them most of the time and have it at my sister's. Nothing weird, obviously. Jus' nice to have someone to bring me water 'n stuff. But then she found her mate and it felt too weird to be in heat with an alpha and their omega in the same house."

"So?" Mark prompts, shifting closer. 

"So I stopped having heats. Nobody else other than my immediate family knows I'm an omega and I _wanted_ it to stay that way, but- I dunno, this shit happened. Sometimes the suppressants make me super sick, but if I just kept taking them, it went away." 

"So- this whole time, you haven't told anybody?"

"No." Jack furiously wipes at his eyes, staring at the floorboards and anywhere else other than Mark. "I- maybe Killian knows, but he's never asked. Ethan- uh, he worked it out that night we all went out drinking. I dunno how."

"Seán," he sighs, putting the mug down. "You are a fucking _idiot._ "

Maybe Mark does know what he's doing, because this forces a smile out of him that he's not expecting. "Not really the response I was lookin' for with my wee sob story, but I'll take it." When he looks up, Mark kind of looks like he might be close to crying too.

"No- you took suppressants and blockers until you were repeatedly sick instead of just- telling me? Or literally anyone? What- did you, did you really think that it would change things?"

"Not with you, not really," Jack says, a little bit too quickly. "Just- a lot of the community is very alpha-prejudiced. Someone as loud as me shouldn't be an omega or I just shouldn't be on YouTube at all. I don't trust some of our friends not to accidentally let it slip or some bullshit like that- and- _fuck_ , I dunno. Not telling anyone just made it easier because then I could pretend it was real."

"I wanna say this doesn't change anything for me. I still see you the same way. Oh- also, I'm not gonna tell anyone. I would've hoped you knew that without me saying, but I'll say it anyway. And if you- um. Like, if you ever need, uh, help with all this again."

"Are you offerin' to be my heat date?" The feeling is back in his chest, something blossoming and squeezing around his breath, but he holds it back. 

Sure enough, Mark laughs. "If you need it, yeah. Nothing has to change, like. We don't have to tell anyone, we can just move past it. Just for heats." His voice sounds off kilter and weirdly calculated, but Jack doesn't care anymore. 

"Just for heats," he echoes. There it was, clear as day- Mark doesn't feel the same about him. At least he knows now. Maybe he won't ever get over it, but he knows not to get his hopes up. "I, uh- I'm freezin' my fecking balls off, I'm gonna shower." He gets up before Mark can say anything else because he ideally wants to make it to the shower before he breaks down completely. 

Jack doesn't bother being a good house guest this time and just leaves his sopping wet clothes in a pile on the floor. Obviously he'll clean it up but right now, he's never wanted a warm shower more. Maybe it'll simulate human contact and he won't start sobbing in the guest bathroom.

Ha. As if he could get anymore pathetic. 

"Seán," he hears from behind him. 

Mark doesn't laugh when he jumps. "Uh, Mark?" he says, covering his chest with his hands because being undressed around Mark is weird now. "Did I forget to lock the door, or-"

"What if," Mark says, running a hand through his hair almost as if he's... nervous? "What if I don't want to move past it?" His pose is defensive, as if he thinks Jack isn't going to like what he's said. 

"I'm runnin' on empty, man, my brain stopped working a couple hours ago. What the feck are you on about?"

"I _mean_ ," he says, and holy fuck, is he _blushing_? It must just be the light. "We agreed to- to move past this. Just for heats and stay friends. But. What if- what if I don't want to just move past it? I always thought- I mean, I wasn't sure, but- _now_ , I can't- shit."

"Mark," Jack says, standing completely still. There's no way he's implying what he sounds like he's implying. "What are you trying to say?" 

"I want you to be my mate," he blurts out. "I always- always kind of thought about it, but I just assumed that we were- I dunno, good friends? But the last few weeks have been- I haven't been this happy in so long-"

"So- so this isn't just because I'm an omega?" If the answer was yes it would make sense - it's not a big deal to admit that they're sexually compatible, and for Mark to want to be with him for that reason is understandable. There's not that many omegas around, especially in the LA area, so he's probably not going to find another one. That has to be it; it's the only explanation that Jack's head can get around. 

"No- _no_ , no fucking way. That's like, an added bonus at best, dude. I felt like this before I knew you were an omega, but I- I thought I could just ignore it and it would go away. I'm sorry- and, and if you want me to piss off we can never speak about this again and that's _fine_ , I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just- I had to, to say something." Jack's brain has short-circuited. This can't be real. Maybe it's a heat induced fever dream? Maybe he never even left Ireland. 

"Jack would you _please_ say something- even if it's just, like, _fuck off and get out of the bathroom_. Anything."

"Um," he says eloquently, blinking at Mark several times in place of saying anything. Part of his energy is focused on clenching his jaw so that his teeth don't start chattering. "I never thought this would happen so I don't know how to respond. I think I'm so cold that my body isn't working anymore."

"Right- right, yeah. Sorry, I'll let you shower," Mark says, turning around before Jack can respond.

"No- wait, that wasn't me telling you to leave, idiot, I'm just fuckin' cold. It won't sink in that you're not taking the piss."

Mark turns back around. "I am not taking the piss."

"Oh- I've had feelings for you since, I dunno. Since we met? Probably before." 

Jack can't believe that after all of those years, it was this easy to tell him. The words feel foreign in his mouth; he never imagined himself saying them because it wasn't worth any of the risk. Because really, at the end of the day, he was risking everything. Not just his friendship with Mark (though that was one of the most important things) but his friendship with any of them, or his career, or just being happy. Mark would never, ever feel the same way, so why bother thinking about something that could never be? 

Only now, Mark is standing in front of him looking like he's trying not to smile, and Jack has no idea what to do. "You're serious?" he says, stepping forward. "I thought it was kind of obvious that I felt- or, well, I guess it must not've been if you never said anything."

"Mark, I'm thick as a fucking brick. I'm oblivious as shit! You could've walked around with a t-shirt saying _I have feelings for Jack_ on it and I would've thought _mm, what a lucky guy that Jack must be_." Mark laughs at this, eyes creasing and shoulders shaking. Jack falls in love with him all over again. "Uh- I never t'ought this would happen so I'm not really sure where to go from here."

"You could kiss me?" Mark says, and Jack probably looks like an idiot when he grins but then they're kissing so it doesn't matter. "You're- still freezing," he says against his mouth, fingers looping through his belt buckles to pull him closer. "Shower."

"Occupied," he retorts, grazing his teeth against Mark's lower lip. Arousal curls in his stomach at the growl he lets out in response.

"If we come to my bathroom we can both shower." Jack ignores him, walking him back until he's pressed against the bathroom door and he can slip a leg in between Mark's. "Seán," he insists, voice already low and gravelly. "As much as I don't want to stop, you _will_ probably get hypothermia soon. Did you want me to join you?" 

"Are you feckin' serious? _Obviously_ ," he says, letting Mark drag him out of the room.

Kissing Mark now is different to how it's been before- there's still the passion from earlier, the promise of something _more,_ but it's gentle in a new way. Softer, not rushed now that there's no impending deadline of when they have to stop. Mark undresses him quickly but kisses him slowly, letting him warm up in the water before doing anything else. After he's not shaking from the cold, Mark kisses him under the spray of the water, cradling his jaw and curling his fingers around his waist. "Let me wash your hair," he murmurs, and he could probably ask for anything and Jack would still say yes. 

His fingers are soft against Jack's scalp, rubbing the shampoo in comforting circular motions as Jack rests his head on his shoulder. The exhaustion is starting to settle in now that he's let himself warm up, but it's so nice that he'd happily stand up forever. Mark shampoos his own hair while Jack rinses his out, baring his throat as he tilts his head back to wash it. Jack can't tell if he wants to scent him or bite him more. 

"Can I-" he says, lowering himself to his knees when he can't find the words. Mark groans just from looking at him, stroking a finger along the underside of his jaw as they meet eyes. He's hard already and hisses when Jack takes his cock into his mouth, immediately threading his fingers through his hair. Even for an alpha he's pretty big, so it's fortunate that Jack can deepthroat like a champ- though, Mark seems hesitant, not wanting to push him too far. Jack hollows his cheeks and sinks his mouth around Mark even deeper, relishing in the deep groan that spills out of his throat.

"God- _fuck_ , Jack," he growls, fingers tightening in Jack's hair until he moans around Mark's cock. "You like that? When I pull your hair?" he murmurs, lightly tugging his head. Jack always, _always_ knew that Mark's voice had the capability to be this arousing, but _hearing_ it is something else completely. "You're so- _look_ at you," he says.

Jack pulls off, pumping Mark's cock with his hand and blinking up at him. "Fuck my throat."

"Are you trying to _kill me_?"

"Maybe." Mark seems hesitant, like he's holding himself back, but Jack takes him back into his mouth while staring up at him and he seems to lose it completely. Shallowly, he starts fucking Jack's throat, moving his head up and down for him with a tight grip on his hair. The feeling is- it's _amazing_ , and he can't help but moan around Mark's cock. 

"You're so good, so good for me," he's murmuring, growling as Jack whines. "I always knew you would be. I don't- I probably won't last as long as I maybe should." Jack doesn't care because the closer Mark gets, the more his fingers tighten in Jack's hair and low growls reverberate from his chest. It's nearly too much, and slick is starting to leak down his thighs but he just whines and digs his nails into Mark's hips, urging him on. After a few more minutes he starts to lose his rhythm and Jack's eyes start to water, bringing him impossibly deeper until his hips start to stutter and he cums with a deep, throaty groan. Some of it dribbles down Jack's chin as he looks up at Mark, who immediately drops his head back against the wall. "You- you're doing this on purpose."

"I try my hardest."

"You're a lot chattier now that you're not in heat," he remarks, helping him to his feet and pulling him close. Jack opens his mouth to say something snarky in response but Mark's hand lands on the small of his back, slowly sinking lower as he mouths at his neck. "Good think I know how to shut you up."

"You couldn't shut me up if you tried," Jack retorts, but some of the mock-indignance is lost when Mark scrapes his teeth over Jack's claiming spot. The fucker laughs when Jack whines, but he slips a finger inside him before he can start complaining. Instantly, Jack wants more, pushing back up against his hand until a second finger joins the first.

"I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it now," Mark smirks, biting at his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Jack's legs nearly give way and he's instantly ten times closer, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the wall behind him. "Can you take another one for me?"

" _Yes_ \- yeah, yeah," he pleads, embarrassingly loud moans spilling out into the shower as Mark pushes the third finger in. It burns but in a way that only makes it better, little whimpers escaping past his lips as Mark twists his fingers and-

" _Fuck_ ," he hisses, letting Mark take his weight as his fingers push in perfectly. "Mark, _Mark- please-_ " he's whining, and Mark's other hand squeezes around his cock and he's done. His back arches and Mark mouths over the bite, fucking him with his fingers until he's writhing with overstimulation. 

"You are _beautiful_ ," Mark says, kissing him gently as he pulls his fingers away. Jack's too blissed out to tell him he's wrong, just leans his head against him and tries to stop his legs from shaking. "C'mon." A towel is placed on his head while Mark wraps one around his waist, but before Jack can be bothered to move Mark is already towel drying his hair.

"You're a sap," he says, yawning. Mark flicks him in the head. "In a nice way, dickhead."

"Fuck you too," he says, but he's smiling as he leans down to kiss him again.


	9. don't let it happen to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix sounds accusatory, almost as if Jack has asked him to do something bad. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not super happy with this so let me know what you think

Mark is a morning person, and Jack is decidedly not, so when he's woken up at shit in the morning by the other man's alarm, he just buries his face in Mark's chest and goes back to sleep. Somewhere in the back of his sleep addled mind, he's aware of Mark starting to answer emails with his phone balanced on Jack's back, but he's fine with that. They stay like that for at least two hours, Mark occasionally stopping to run his fingers through his hair or over his bare shoulder. 

"Either someone's just broken in, or Ethan's about to walk in without knocking," he murmurs, chuckling softly when Jack grunts noncommittally and doesn't move. "I'm being serious. He has a key."

Jack still doesn't move. He's about to ask why the hell Ethan has a key when the bedroom door opens and someone makes some kind of a squeaky surprised noise. "I'm turning around as not to offend my innocent eyes," Ethan announces from the doorway. 

"Jack's _asleep,_ dumbass, and I'm answering emails. Is that innocent enough for you."

"I bet you're naked under there."

"You're naked under your clothes, fucker," Jack says, rolling away from Mark and pulling the pillow over his head. "Why are you both functioning this _early_."

"Coffee!" Ethan cheers, laughing when Jack flips him off. "Would it make you feel better if I told you that I brought McDonald's breakfast with me?"

Jack lifts his head, squinting at him in the soft light of the bedroom. "I'm listening."

"Yeah, my Uber driver was _so_ nice about it- I gave him a free hashbrown! Come eat." There's a pause and Jack just stares at him, waiting for his common sense to kick in. "Oh- shit, yeah. I'll let you guys get dressed." As soon as the bedroom door closes Mark is pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, poking at his sides like an annoying bitch. 

"I have a question," he murmurs, gently kissing behind his ear. "Why didn't Ethan look surprised to see us in bed even though your heat is over?" He must see Jack freeze, even though it's only for a second, because he pauses, leaning a head against Jack's shoulder. "I don't care if he knows, dumbass, I'm just wondering. He would've walked in on us regardless because he's an idiot and he never knocks."

"I may or may not have- uh, _disclosed_ under duress that I had some feelings for you. I can feel you grinning like an idiot, y'know."

"I can't believe you had a _crush_ on me," he teases, snorting when Jack jabs an elbow backwards into his stomach. "Hey- _hey_ , I'm kidding, stop. I kind of always had a feeling that you were my mate, even before I realised I liked you. Does that make sense?" Jack doesn't know how to respond, because even with all the talk of feelings and dating there hasn't been any discussion of _mates_. That's too big, too scary and too permanent- right? Mark takes his silence as a no and sighs softly, nesting his face into Jack's neck. "It's like- my like, body and the alpha part of me always wanted to be near you. It always freaked out whenever it thought you were under some kind of threat. Dunno how I never worked out you were an omega, really."

Does Jack want Mark to be his mate? His whole life, he'd never planned on having anything like that with _anyone_ because omegas are treated like property once they're claimed. Jack was _never_ going to be someone's property. This is different, though- Mark isn't anything like that. Jack never thought he wanted a mate, but he wants Mark more than anything he's ever wanted anything before. "Tell me what you're thinking about."

Jack pauses, debating whether to just brush it off and go and eat his breakfast before it gets cold. But Mark noses at his neck, pressing a soft kiss on his claiming spot and he feels at ease again. "'m thinkin' how I never wanted a mate 'cause I didn't want wanna be an omega. Also thinkin' about how I wanna be with you."

"I'm sure we can make it work," Mark chuckles, voice warm enough that Jack kind of believes him. "Breakfast, or Ethan'll come back in here."

-

Five hours later, Jack is staring down at his phone and brainstorming all the possible reasons why calling Felix would be a bad idea. The list is pretty much endless, so it's not hard, but also _not_ calling Felix is a different kind of bad idea. These two factors have resulted in Jack sat on the spare bed and debating calling for enough time that his back is starting to hurt. 

It started with his decision to tell people. Really, it started with his decision that telling people would be a positive move for the YouTube gaming community, and that came along with needing to tell his close friends (because they might be a wee bit upset if they didn't find out from him first.) And really, _that_ started with Ethan saying, "So, are you telling people?" 

Maybe the biggest cliche ever, both of them respond at the same time; Jack says no, because it's the obvious answer. To tell everyone would mean to tell everyone he's an omega, and nobody even knows he's _gay_ , so it's hardly something he's prepared for. The only thing was that Mark said _yes,_ certain and extremely confused that Jack would say anything else. 

(Thankfully, Ethan skirted past it pretty quickly and seemed to forget after a minute or so, and they played some annoying game while Jack excused himself to call his mom.) Really, he didn't call his mam, even though he's definitely overdue it - all he did was stare down at his phone. He's reached a decision, pretty much in this order:

At some point, he is happy for Mark to tell people they're together. That time is not now, but he desperately wants Mark to claim him, so they'll find out anyway. Is there a way he could tell people about their relationship without telling people he's an omega? Not really. Betas don't really get claimed. Does he want to come out as an omega? No, not at all, no way- he's barely come to terms with the fact that someone other than his family knows. But.

 _But._ Just because he isn't ready for it, it doesn't mean that he shouldn't do it. Other than Ethan, there's maybe two other omega gaming channels that have made any ounce of success- Jack sees other ones pop up all the time, but they never last. No matter how enjoyable their content is, people aren't interested because omegas aren't supposed to be good at competition or anything close to gaming. It's an _alpha_ _thing_. There's nothing he hates more about YouTube than that. So, maybe he can do something about it. He's no PewDiePie, but he's nearly matched with Mark on subscribers, so there's no denying he's made it this far regardless of his status. So, he's telling people.

Only, some of his friends might be a little put out if he puts up a video explaining how he's being lying to them since they met. He needs to tell some of them personally, and the first person should be Felix.

"Jack? Hey, dude!" Felix says when he picks up, loud and vibrant.

"Hi, Fe," he says, bracing himself. Felix was once his best friend, and now they never record together and call occasionally because Jack couldn't stop hearing everything he would say about omegas over and over in his head. "Been a while."

"Yeah- month or so, right? What's up, dude? You sound kind of bummed out. Gimme a sec." There's some shuffling and a door opening, and Jack has thirty seconds of Felix explaining he has a call to get his shit together. "So, how can I help ya?"

"I need to tell you something- but, uh. Let me preface it by saying- I wanna say I didn't want to lie. Not to you, anyway. I had to, or I wouldn't ever have-"

"Woah, man. This sounds super dark- you're not pregnant, are you?" he chuckles. He just has to say it, just tell him and then it's done. 

"I'm an omega." 

Felix doesn't say anything for too long- ideally, Jack wanted to come out all guns blazing, to tell him that he had to deal with it or Jack didn't want anything to do with him. Only now, with neither of them speaking, he doesn't feel like he can say that. Instead he takes a deep breath, and says, "Um, Felix?" because even now he still wants to hear that it's okay. 

"Yeah- right, sorry. I just- uh. I wasn't expecting that, really." He sounds resigned, slightly, maybe even colder than he was before. "Uh... what made you tell me now?"

"I want to- to come out about it, I guess? I think- I think it's important. For there to be representation."

"And what, you want me to jump on the bandwagon? Like, come out in support?" Felix sounds accusatory, almost as if Jack has asked him to do something bad. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

"I just thought- no, I just wanted to tell you. I wanted you to hear it from me. I-" he tries to say, but Felix is clearing his throat.

"Marzia's calling me, I've gotta go- thanks for calling, I'll talk to you soon." and he's hanging up before Jack can say anything else. 

"Fuck," Jack says to the empty room.

-

Mark's reasonably busy all day (and Jack makes himself busy so that he doesn't have to think about Felix) so they don't really see each other until about 7, when he sticks his head into the guest bedroom that Jack is using as a sort-of-office. "Were you still planning on cooking dinner?"

"Shit," he sighs, because he definitely told Mark that he was going to, but it's late and he doesn't have any energy at all. "Yeah, uh- just give me a sec." Instead, Mark comes inside and comes up behind him, threading his fingers through his hair as he slumps back in the desk chair.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothin'. Just tired," he sighs, leaning up into his touch.

"Seán," he says, leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of his head. "This whole room smells like anxiety."

Maybe if being near Mark hadn't already calmed him, he wouldn't have said anything, just brushed it off and gone to make dinner. But his fingers are warm on the base of Jack's neck and all he wants is to be near him. "It's dumb," he warns, gently swatting at Mark when he laughs. "Can I-" and then he stops because scenting Mark is one thing, but actually having to ask to do it is something completely different. 

"Hm?" Mark says, even though he knows exactly what Jack wants.

"You _know_ ," he scowls, turning to face him when he steps back. Saying it feels like admitting he needs something, needs Mark to be his _alpha_ and that's not something he's comfortable doing. "I should cook."

"Stop being a grumpy baby," Mark teases, but he pulls Jack close once he's stood up. "If you want to scent me, just ask."

"It's kind of pathetic," he argues, but it's worth very little with the way he's nuzzling his face in Mark's neck. "Uh. I called Felix."

Mark stills slightly, but the hand rubbing the small of Jack's back doesn't stop. "It didn't go well?"

Jack snorts despite himself, breathing in the scent of Mark and slowly feeling satiated. "No. It- it is what it is. At least I told him."

"I'm happy for you, dude. Fuck him if he's not okay with it." Jack pulls away and Mark kisses him, soft and sweet. "I think this calls for ordering a pizza."


	10. the upsides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't want to ask for it outright 'cause I'm an idiot, or whatever. But I do want it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the end, kind of! i'm a sucker for a fat epilogue. there'll be a bit more closure to all this

Telling everyone else proves much less of an issue. Jack plays a round of Uno with Bob, Wade and Mark, who conveniently hangs up early, leaving the perfect opportunity to bring it up. Wade is overall not that surprised - Bob, on the other hand, is incredibly shocked - but they both take it well. Bob even says that Jack can 'count on him' to back him once he comes out about it, and really, that's more than he ever could have asked for. Maybe he didn't find it in him to mention that Mark was his mate, but he's sure it'll come up eventually. 

Being an omega is one thing (and it's already something he's not happy with) but whilst it feels necessary to start telling people and making his community a better place, his relationship with Mark isn't like that. It's special, something personal that is too important to risk sharing. It'll probably break him slightly when the comments start pouring in, about how he's a liar or a fraud or someone who has no place in the gaming community, but that's nothing compared to what losing Mark would feel like. Jack can't risk what they have, not yet. 

In the end, he decides to just turn on his camera and start filming. Mark recommended writing something down first, but he could only stare at the blank paper for so long. It means that he rambles a lot, but hey- he'd rather have too much footage than something that feels like it isn't enough. 

" _Hey. I thought about doing my normal intro for this video but- I dunno, it didn't really feel right. This is- this is really difficult. I need to tell you something that I maybe should have told you a while ago. I was scared- I'm still scared, really, but I've been thinking about this for a while and I think this is- I think it's really important. Not just for me, but also for the community and anyone else that might need to see this. I'm an omega._

_I know that this might come as quite a shock - trust me, it's not information I was ever prepared to give away before now - but- I don't know. I've finally reached a place in my life where I'm at peace with it. Until now I've always felt this- this **shame** , almost as if I didn't deserve my place just because I had to hide my status to get here. Does that make sense? Part of me has always been desperate for this, just to be open and honest about this, because I wanted to show people that your secondary gender doesn't have jack shit to do with how successful you can be. I'm a fuckin' pussy, though._

_I felt trapped by all of the stupid stereotypes and expectations- I was so terrified of years of my hard work being reduced down to nothing because of people who think omegas are only good for breeding or whatever other dumb fuckin' ideas they have. In hindsight, it's stupid, but there's not much point looking back at me bein' stupid in the past. Too much stupid in the present to focus on that, aye?_

_In all seriousness, though, I didn't decide to talk about this just for my own sake. I've been thinking about everyone else, all of the omega gamers I've seen exhiled off of YouTube just for being themselves. Maybe I just feel guilty for not standing up for them sooner- hey, there's no time like the present, right?_

_So. This is me, taking a stand about the inequality in the gaming community. Not just from talking about my own experiences - though, if that's something that people want, please let me know. I want this to be about helping everyone else, not just my complaining. There's definitely more coming, I just need some time to- to get my shit together. Give me a couple days to see how many subs I lose, and I'll be back for more._

_Thanks. I love you guys."_

Watching Mark watch it was too awkward, so Jack busies himself making a very, very strong drink in the kitchen while Mark views his final, edited video. It's not something he ever imagined he would have to make, so he has no idea if it's anything close to okay, but he trusts Mark's judgement more than his own so he's the one who's deciding whether it's good enough. That's something he's always respected about Mark; his determination to help people do their best. Even if he doesn't think Jack will want to hear it, he won't shy away from any important feedback. That's what he needs right now. Honesty.

What he's not expecting is for Mark to appear behind him, normal scent tinged with sweetness and something else, an emotion he doesn't really recognise. "You never told me you felt like that."

"Hm?" Jack says, sipping at his vodka soda. He's hoping Mark isn't going to try and make him elaborate anything that came up in the video. Spilling his deepest darkest secrets to a camera is one thing. Having to actually speak about it with someone he cares about is something different entirely.

"You never told me why- I mean, I guess I should've asked, but still. That you were so against being an omega."

Mark almost looks hurt when Jack nods, but now that he's within touching distance he can tell that there's no ill intent behind the question. He's upset, maybe, and Jack isn't really sure why, but above anything he's just wanting Jack to share this with him. "I don't really know what you want me to say, man." He reaches forward, fingers brushing against his mate's side. "I've always hated it."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he can't help but say, smiling to make sure no venom comes across with it. "My whole life, I've been told that people like me aren't supposed to do anything that I want to do or be the kind of person that I want to be. Omegas are supposed to be submissive and quiet."

"You've never been good at that," Mark teases, sitting up on the kitchen bench before pulling Jack to rest in between his knees. "I guess- I always knew that being an omega meant people couldn't do what they wanted to do. I just never really thought about how maybe some people being who they want to be means they can't be an omega." He pauses, nuzzling his face against Jack's neck. "What does that mean for us?"

It's quiet, like he's trying not to make the question a big deal, but Jack pulls away anyway. "What d'you mean?"

"I mean- uh, omegas are like, supposed to be like, an alpha's bitch, right? Or- hey, don't look at me like that. You _know_ I'm talking about stereotypes and not personal opinion. But- if we're going against all these stereotypes, does that mean you don't want me to claim you?"

 _This_ throws Jack off of his rhythm because it was the last question he was expecting - he's begged Mark to bite him enough during sex that he hoped his intentions would have been made clear by now. "Mark," he says, because _how_ it isn't blindingly obvious that he wants to be claimed, he's not sure.

"Because that's fine," he interrupts, taking Jack's hand and interlacing their fingers. "Honestly! Having you is already more than I could ever ask for, and if you don't want that then neither do I. All I want is for you to be happy, so if that means-"

"God, shut _up_ ," Jack says, laughing when Mark pulls a face. "You're even more of an idiot than I am. I've been trying to convince you to claim me since we started having sex. I didn't want to ask for it outright 'cause I'm an idiot, or whatever. But I do want it."

Something in Mark's eye's darken and he reaches out, trailing a finger along Jack's claiming spot. "You want me to claim you?"

"Yes," he whispers, skin tingling under his touch. "I want it." Mark meets his eyes, a silent question. _Do you trust me_?

In response, Jack leans forward and kisses him, twisting the front of his shirt in his fist. The sharp smell of arousal spikes instantly and Jack wants him more than anything, want to bite him and be bitten by him and be _his_. "Bedroom," Mark says in between kisses, biting down on Jack's bottom lip when he whines.

"Here," he insists, sliding his hands under Mark's shirt. Mark growls low in his chest and surges forward, sliding off the kitchen bench and pushing Jack backwards until he's flush up against the cupboards. The kiss is electric and his knees are already wobbly, hands fisted in Mark's shirt and hair just to keep himself steady. Maybe it's the prospect of being claimed but something feels different about this and Jack just wants him _now_ , doesn't want to wait for anything. 

He's even more certain of this when Mark's pushing a third finger inside of him, fingers loosely wrapped around his throat and holding him down on the kitchen bench. There's soft jazz music playing from his shitty kitchen radio and Jack has never wanted anyone more. "Now," he pleads, whining as Mark presses kisses up his chest. " _Mark_."

Mark nods, pulling his own shirt over his head and stepping out of his underwear. Jack hisses at the loss of contact, fingers hopelessly scrabbling for purchase on the kitchen counter as Mark grips his thigh and lines himself up. "Ready?"

" _Please._ " His whole body tightens when Mark pushes in, back arching off the cold surface and some kind of hopeless noise spills out of his throat. Mark growls, a tight, bruising grip on his thigh as he bottoms out. Every time they fuck it's better than the last - it's barely been a few seconds and he already feels like he's on fire. It's embarrassing but he can't help the noises that escape every time Mark moves, rolling his hips upward because he can't find the words to ask them for more. 

" _God,_ " Mark groans, already starting to move at a brutal pace. 

"Most people call me Jack," he pants, nails scraping down his shoulders. 

"Cocky bastard," he growls, but he's grinning when Jack's laugh is tapered off into a high-pitched whine. "You sound so beautiful when I fuck you." His voice is rough and gravelly as he thrusts up into Jack and something different starts burning through his veins, pure fire under his skin. "You're _mine._ "

"Bite me," Jack begs, a groan breaking off in his chest when Mark's movements slow. "Don't you _dare_ fuckin' stop, I swear to-"

"Bossy," Mark teases, but it's undercut by the strain in his voice. "I want to fuck you up against the wall." Jack barely gets to nod in agreement before Mark is lifting him and pressing him up against the wall. The plaster is cool against his back and he hooks his legs around Mark's waist, a guttural whine breaking through when Mark sinks impossibly deeper inside. 

Then Mark starts fucking up into him, _hard_ , and Jack loses all ability to think, let alone speak. It's brutal, pain tinging up his muscles in the best kind of way but it's _perfect._ Mark growls, low in his chest and arousal spikes in Jack's stomach as he rakes his nails down the other man's back. "'m not- _fuck-_ gonna last," he chokes out, Mark's scent overwhelmingly disorientating as he drops his head into his neck.

"Don't come until I claim you," Mark commands, low and authoritative as his thrusts start to speed up to an even more brutal pace. 

"Please- _please,_ " he mewls, throwing his head back and baring his throat. He can't stop saying Mark's name, a litany of adoration as static starts to buzz in his ear. " _Mark_." Mark brings his mouth up to Jack's neck, teeth scraping over his jugular. Another whine spills out but before he can beg, Mark's biting down on the side of his throat.

For just a second, time seems to slow. Jack can feel his heartbeat in the base of his skull and it seems to stutter, almost as if it's resonating with the heartbeat he can feel in Mark's chest. Then time starts moving again and he's climaxing, back arching off the wall as Mark's hips press into him. He doesn't slow for a second, pressing open mouthed kisses into Jack's bite until his back tightens beautifully and he presses into him as he comes.

"Easy does it," he murmurs as Jack slumps forward, pulling out slowly and scooping him up. He may as well be putty; he's so completely pliant as Mark carries him to the nearest bedroom and lays him down on the bed. "You okay?" 

Jack takes a moment to pull the words out - it feels like they're aimlessly floating around his head and he just can't get a grip on them - but Mark seems more than happy to push his sweaty hair off of his head and wait. "Intense," he breathes out, fingers lighting touching the bite. It hurts in a low, dull throb, but that's nothing compared to how amazing it feels to be lying next to Mark. It feels like they fit together perfectly. "After sex," he gets out, blindly reaching for the glass of water before Mark takes pity and passes it to him. "After sex, my body- it's weird. Think it's an omega thing. Feel a bit on edge or whatever." Mark nods, probably about to ask why Jack never mentioned this before, so he just keeps speaking. "'s not like that anymore. Feel safe."

"I just claimed you," Mark says, curling up behind him with a solid grip around his torso. "This time last year I was telling myself I had to get a grip because there was no way you would ever be interested in me." He pauses to press gentle kisses up the side of Jack's temple.

Jack lets his eyes flutter closed, rolling in Mark's grip so that his face is buried in his alpha's neck. "You were feckin' wrong, dude," he yawns, ignoring Mark's snort. And then, just because he's half passed-out, "Glad you made a move?"

There's a soft jab at his ribs but it's not enough to hurt, and when it makes him giggle, Mark presses a lingering kiss to his forhead. "You're such an idiot. _Obviously._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you guys read another septiplier fic if i did one?


	11. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two snippets of what happened next

"Uh, don't be mad at me," is the first thing Mark says when Jack comes out of the office. His back is aching from editing for how ever many hours straight, but it had been a nice surprise that Mark had made dinner. Now it seems concerning.

"That doesn't exactly fill me with ease."

"Felix called me," and that was _not_ what Jack was expecting him to say but he lets the tension drop from his shoulders.

"Mark, I've told you before. I don't care if you're still friends with Felix. You're your own person, you don't need my fuckin' permission."

"We spoke about you." Jack stops from where he was walking towards the table and turns around, unsure of what to expect. "He's been thinking about you and he didn't react how he should've. He asked if he could talk about it."

"And what, you said yes?" Mark nods, but Jack isn't really that bothered. "That's fine. 's long as he knows I'm not gonna just let it slide if he starts chatting shit-"

"So you haven't seen what he tweeted?"

Dread fills Jack's stomach as she shakes his head- only, if it was truly bad, Mark would surely be more angry than this? He seems apprehensive, if anything, almost like he's unsure of how he's going to react. Wordlessly, Mark hands out his phone.

_Hey guys._

_I've been getting a huge amount of messages and comments over the last month asking for my 'reaction' to Seán's (Jacksepticeye) coming out as an omega. I would be lying if I said I'd spent the whole time since he called me the day before debating how to approach it - honestly, I was just hoping it would go away. It took me completely off guard and had the potential to change my worldview, which is not something I was ready for, so I ignored it._

_Marzia brought to my attention that all of the messages were split into two groups: people who wanted me to support Jack, and people who wanted me to condemn him and encourage him to leave YouTube. As time has gone on, the volume of messages has increased and it became clear that I would have to talk about this even though I didn't want to be._

_I'm still in the process of learning. This isn't the last time I will talk about this. What I know now is this. My whole life, I have been told that omegas are lesser beings. I'm not excusing my beliefs or past behaviour, that is just something I had accepted as fact. When Jack told me, I dismissed him at first- but in the back of my mind, I knew it wasn't right. Jack's channel and career has nothing to do with his secondary gender and everything to do with his hard work and talent._

_I'm still working things out. I still have a lot to learn. What I will say now is that omegas are not worth any less just because of their gender. I know many of you don't agree with me, but I implore you to educate yourselves. Do better. This is a fight we need to be a part of._

"Are you crying?"

"No," Jack scoffs, angrily rubbing at his watering eye. "Crying is for pussies."

"You're a pussy," Mark says, but after he pockets his phone he holds his arms out. "What'd you think of that?"

"More than I ever expected from Fe- but like, in a good way. It's definitely gonna change everything in a way I didn't have the influence for, I guess." Jack steps forward, tucking his head into Mark's neck. He thought the novelty would wear off after they'd been together for a little bit,but it's just the same as the first time. Mark wraps his arms around him and holds him close, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

"Look at you, changing the world." 

"Hardly," he snorts, but he stays stood there, indulging in the closeness of his mate. Maybe stuff is going to even better than he imagined. 

**bonus epilogue, several weeks later**

In the end, it's almost an accident that they tell everyone. Jack's always been a bit of a sap deep down, no matter how much he pretends to hate it when Mark is being all mushy and gross. Normally, this shows itself through making dinner or buying flowers that are definitely just for the kitchen table and not at all for Mark. Occasionally, it shows itself on the album of photos he has saved in his camera roll that he's never even mentioned to his alpha. Pictures of Mark dancing to the radio as he washes the dishes, pictures of him in the grass with Chica, pictures of him asleep on the couch with his head in Jack's lap. 

It's one particular picture that nearly outs them - Jack's meant to post something alluding towards a charity livestream next week - he missclicks and the picture that comes up as _uploading_ is one of him and Mark. "Shit," he says around a mouthful of cereal. Mark looks up from his toast and raises an eyebrow.

"Nearly just showed the whole world my tits."

Mark snorts, nearly choking on his toast. "What the fuck are you on about?" Jack leans forward to show him the picture; both of them in bed, Mark's face nestled in his shoulder from behind him with both arms wrapped around him. "When did you take this?"

It's quieter, and Jack almost feels as if he's done something wrong. "It's not- I haven't shown them to anybody," he rushes out, cringing when Mark raises another eyebrow at 'them.' "It's dumb."

Mark is smiling when he finally looks up, holding the phone up. "Can I look?" Jack shrugs and Mark starts swiping. It's silent for a few minutes so he just goes back to staring at his cereal and hopes his ears aren't embarrassingly red. 

"Jack," Mark says, holding his phone out to him. "You're the biggest fucking sap-"

"Shut up," he interrupts, swiping his phone back.

"No- no, it's really sweet," he says, taking Jack's hand from his lap. "I never realised you were doing it."

"That's 'cause I'm a feckin' stealth master," he scowls, but it's so obvious that he's trying not to smile. The room feels fuzzy and warm from the way Mark's looking at him and on a whim, he says, "D'you think it'd really bad if I did post it."

"Everyone would know we were together," Mark says, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. 

"Yeah," Jack says, staring back down at the picture. "I could live with that."

Mark stays silent for a moment as he does it, but it's an easy silence. "You know I love you."

"I know," he grins, leaning towards the other man. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! this was my first ever septiplier fic as well as a/b/o fic, so it was a challenge but i think im happy with it.
> 
> been watching jack play the last of us 2 pretty much nonstop, so i have a feeling my next fic might have something to do with that !! hope you enjoyed this, thanks for kudos and comments <3


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